Existing Outside An Erased World
by EmmettMcFly55
Summary: It's been a few days since Chris and Susan's wedding at the end of the previous story, and the Hell Valley locals are successfully blending into the regular timeline. But when Calvin suddenly begins to show unexpected, unexplainable signs of erasure, Doc and Chris realize that their adventures are far from over yet. Expect complex theories and various time periods. IDIATM Sequel!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future. I do own the IDIATM AU, though.**

 _Author's Note: All right, to anyone who hasn't read my long epiloguish author's note that I posted on Travelling Through Dimensions, this story is a sequel to "I Didn't Invent Any Time Machine", and tries to tie up some loose ends or plotholes that I left there when I first wrote it. Why, for instance, do the main characters of the story not erase once they get back to the "good" world, since they already have counterparts there? Is Marty Two (Calvin) special, or similar to everyone else from the A-timeline, despite not originally being from that timeline? Chris has Susan, but is Doc ever going to meet Clara?  
_

 _All these questions will be answered in this story, a story that starts only two weeks after the previous one left off but might feel differently due to the fact that I wrote it so much later. I came up with the core concepts of the story all the way back in 2012, though (even if I hadn't quite worked out all my ideas yet by that time). I hope you like it. The first chapter is more of an introductory chapter, in part designed to remind you of the nature of this world, but the cliffhanger at the end pushes us directly into the main story. If you have any questions or comments or you either like/dislike the story for a reason, by all means, please review!_

 _ **Existing Outside An Erased World**_

 **Chapter One**

Saturday, December 14, 1985  
8:30 AM PST  
Hill Valley, California

" _Tell me doctor; Where are we going this time; Is this the fifties; Or ninety-ninety-nine."_

Calvin Arthur McFly began to come to with a smile on his face, listening to the familiar Huey Lewis music that was warbling from the speakers of the radio in his room. It was one of the songs Huey had recorded for Calvin's favorite movie, 'Teens in Time', and indeed the song was very appropriate to his situation. It never ceased to make him smile.

As he listened to the lyrics, Calvin rolled over, realizing that once again he had slept with his clothes on. He knew that his mother would still complain about that every now and then, but the frequency of their rows about it had decreased a lot since the previous timeline, as had their seriousness. Lorraine Baines McFly was very well aware that she couldn't get her son to change his habits on this subject, not unless she was prepared to personally take off his clothes every single night. And it wasn't like his twin brother wasn't the same.

Even after two weeks, the thought of him having a twin still confused and unnerved him, especially since that twin was named Martin Seamus McFly. After all, that had been his name, all his life, or at least until that October day Doc Brown had invited him to his demonstration of the newly invented DeLorean time machine at Twin Pines Mall. Half an hour later, his best friend since childhood had been dead at the hands of some Libyan terrorists, and he had been sent back to 1955, where, worst of all, he had to spend an entire week getting his not exactly matching parents back together. And all of it under the eyes of an Emmett Brown whom Calvin – then Marty – had desperately attempted to inform of his impending fate. And when he finally succeeded at his job and left 1955, he had arrived in the hell Biff had made of the world after receiving a certain sports almanac as a teen. It had taken him and the locals two months to get out of there, and when he got back to the 'real' world – a world which now featured his father as a successful author and his mother as a happy, non-alcoholic housewife – there had already been a version of him there. And because of that, he had been forced to abandon his own identity and adopt a new one – that of his counterpart's fictional long-lost twin, Calvin Arthur McFly.

Since then, he had had to adjust to an essentially new version of his parents, and to what perhaps even harder; the idea that he wasn't himself anymore. His counterpart was the one dating Jennifer, his counterpart got the credits he'd worked hard for on school prior to October 26th… Of course, since the local Marty was him, the other teen had done the exact same work as well, but that didn't exactly ease Calvin's worries.

Trying to shake off the depressing thoughts about his past, which always seemed to come at a time like this, Calvin rolled over and looked at the clock. To his honest surprise, the time it gave was 8:32 – not exactly the time of day he was used to getting up on Saturdays. Mumbling in frustration and confusion about the odd time, Calvin reached over and turned the alarm clock off, simultaneously cutting off the still-continuing Huey Lewis music being played on the radio. Sighing, he let go of the alarm clock and leaned back in his previous position, content to dream for another while yet.

He might indeed have fallen back asleep, if not for his mother appearing in the doorway shortly thereafter, smiling at him. "I was wondering whether you'd turned off the alarm clock" she said. "Honey, are you all right?"

"I'm fine" Calvin replied, confused. "It's just that my alarm was set way too early. I'm pretty sure I meant to get off at 10:30."

"Ordinarily you would, but this is no ordinary day, remember?" Lorraine gently responded. "Today Doctor Christopher Lloyd Brown and his wife are returning from their honeymoon. They're due to be back at 10 AM, and you did want to be there."

Now that his mother said so, Calvin could vaguely recall him intending to do so. Looking back, it was so obvious. Today was December 14th, two weeks after Doc One/Dr. Lloyd Brown/Christopher and his new wife Susan Clayton had left off on their honeymoon to Australia and France, and it had been a two-week trip, even counting the surprise journey to France. Just last night, Chris had called from Paris, informing them that everything was going according to plan and that they would return the next morning at 10.

The thought of Doc – a version of him, at least – returning from his honeymoon reminded Calvin of everything that had changed. The Dr. Emmett Brown he knew, and partly still knew as the final timeline's Doc was mostly the same as his counterpart in the world Calvin originated from, was a scientist who was married to his job. Although Calvin knew he'd had many hobbies in his earlier years (including a one-time dream of being a cowboy) and he had become a fluent player on the saxophone, in his more recent past Doc had become a scientist 24/7, one who had been a good friend, certainly, but didn't really appear to need one himself. Of course, Doc appreciated his friendship with Marty, especially in the new timeline when he had met the teen thirteen years before his birth, but beyond that, Doc was alone and seemed to be content with it. To Calvin, this had been a natural state of being for the inventor until the Doc that would become Chris had met up with Susan Clayton, back in the Biff-ruled world. The two had hit it off right away, and Calvin had bolted from one surprise into the other as it turned out his lifelong friend could not only fall in love, but kissed and danced with a woman, who, if her behavior towards Chris was any indication, seemed to like it and him a lot.

Clearing his mind, Calvin turned to his mother. "That's right" he confirmed. "Is Marty up yet?" His twin brother did share the same problem he had in getting up early, a trait that Calvin carried from the original timeline but which had apparently remained unchanged in the new timeline. If anything, Marty, having led (for one set of memories at least) a much easier life than his twin, had a tendency to be slightly lazier and more inclined to sleep in than his counterpart was.

It was to his surprise, then, that Lorraine nodded. "He is – but I did have to keep a close eye on him as he went down the stairs" she added with a grin. "From the impression he gave me, if I hadn't been there, he would've bolted right back into his bed."

Calvin grinned. "Wouldn't have surprised me" he said, putting his legs over the edge of his bed and yawning. "Is breakfast ready yet?"

"Should be in a few minutes" Lorraine replied. "In the meantime, you can get a wash in the bathroom and rub the sleepiness out of your face. You look exhausted. Were you up late last night?"

"Kind of, yeah" Calvin admitted, although personally he felt like that wasn't the entire problem. For a while now, he hadn't been feeling too well, with stomach aches and insomnia plaguing him. He had had a decent night's rest this time around, but it was the exception that confirmed the rule, and the teen figured that if it went on like this, maybe he should check with a doctor. He was getting the nagging idea that this wasn't normal.

Lorraine nodded and went off at that, mercifully leaving her son alone as he fetched his clothes and went to the bathroom. Fortunately, Dave and Linda seemed to be already awake or still in bed, so he could just go right in. One of the many disadvantages of being younger had always been being last in row in occasions like this, just because his brother and sister were older and stronger than him. His height hadn't helped matters. Of course, now that they were all grown-up or nearly so those incidents didn't occur nearly as often, but Calvin had the feeling that they occurred to him more than to his twin, as if Dave and Linda were making up for the fact that they hadn't been able to tease their new brother when he was young. After all, as far as they knew, Calvin had left the family as a baby and been raised as an only child.

The cover story seemed to stick, thus far. Certainly, he'd had some difficulties at school and on social occasions, ironically more because he picked stuff up too easily rather than not soon enough. After all, most of Marty's friends had been his friends once, and it was difficult to act as if he didn't know them. The first day at school, he had nearly gone off to his new classroom on his own a few times before Marty had clasped him on the shoulder and he had remembered to allow his 'twin' to guide him to his place.

Of course, he did have his worse moments, and most of them involved Jennifer. There was only one of her, and though he did like Ann and Claudia, they were just different, and of course they hadn't known him before. Being without a girl after three years of dating stung – what was worse was seeing Marty still happily dating her. In fact, Calvin had the feeling Marty and Jennifer were closer than he had ever been to her, partly because they now knew that they would end up together in the future, and were subconsciously already anticipating on that. As for him, he hadn't had a single date in the past two months. In fact, the last girl who had given him a real lovers' kiss had been his mother, back in 1955, and Calvin preferred not to count that incident.

Fortunately, he could be distracted easily as he headed down the stairs himself and saw his brother in the living room. Marty McFly looked up as he saw his twin, and the two stared at each other with the incredulousness normal to twin brothers who had grown up without knowing the other existed. Of course, this wasn't exactly the same case, as prior to that fateful October date – or even the twelfth of November 1955 that had followed it – they had been the same person, and even counting the events that differed in the new timeline, the changes in their personalities were minimal – especially when comparing it to the way they differed from the boy who was now Michael Brown, Dr. Christopher Lloyd Brown's adopted son.

"Hey" Marty said, softly.

"Hey" Calvin replied, sitting down opposite him.

"So," Marty began, "do you think Chris and Susan had a good time together?" He chuckled awkwardly. "I still can't believe Doc – a version of Doc – ended up getting married. It contrasts so much with how I got to know him growing up."

"I was just thinking the same thing" Calvin agreed. "Of course, Doc is nice and all, but I do think that a year ago, I would have laughed in your face if I'd heard that he had found a nice and good-looking woman who wanted to marry him."

"Yeah, same here" Marty nodded. Calvin mentally wondered whether they were ever going to have a sibling fight, given how much they agreed with each other. "Of course, Doc – my Doc – did faint when you told him the news, so he took it seriously right away. Then again, given that it came from you and the way you delivered it to him and later to me, we didn't have much reason to doubt you. I certainly didn't – with the whole alternate realities and double me's already baffling me, this wasn't at all that weird to hear."

Calvin nodded. "I did give you quite a shock, didn't I?" he said. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find any other way to break the news besides just getting you on the phone. And it all worked out for the best in the end, so…" He shrugged. "It couldn't have been that bad for you."

"It wasn't" his brother reassured him. "I was shocked for a few minutes, yeah, but Jennifer helped me get back to the real world. It's not like I haven't experienced stuff like that before. The whole experience of getting sent back to 1955, with Doc dying and then suddenly being thirty years in the past in a time machine without fuel… we really could have freaked out then."

"But we didn't" Calvin mused. "It's a good thing Doc didn't befriend a teenager with a weak heart, then. I know I felt close to keeling over from shock several times. Of course, we did end up getting hit by Grandpa's car, and spending nine hours unconscious afterwards." He frowned. "It's so weird to think that you lived through so many things I lived through as well."

"Yeah, we really aren't all that different" Marty agreed. "Some days, when I'm particularly tired, I'll walk out of my room and see you, and think I'm already in the bathroom and staring at the mirror."

Calvin snorted. "That's weird – although I suppose it's only natural, if you are particularly tired. I can't really blame you anyway, as I'm doing much of the same things. After two months, you'd think I'd have stopped reacting to someone saying Marty."

"Well, it was our name for all of our life, and I know I'd go nuts if I had to get used to another one" Marty replied. "Marty One, er, _Michael_ doesn't seem to have any problems with it, but of course, he's probably eager to leave the world he came from behind him."

"That's true" Calvin said. "And his entire family is adopting new names, so at least he doesn't feel quite like an outcast, the way I do." He frowned for a moment, but smiled again the moment thereafter. "Christopher Lloyd Brown. You'd think people would notice the obvious. Jennifer's Claudia Wells isn't all that famous, so that could pass, but Chris… and especially with him having a son named Michael…well, Mike really, but…"

"Few people notice what's right under their nose" Marty stated. "Chris and his family aren't really trying to draw attention to themselves – and the few people who notice their resemblance to Doc and to us might not know either Michael J. Fox or Christopher Lloyd."

"I could see them not knowing Christopher Lloyd, but Michael J. Fox?" Calvin raised an eyebrow. "Between Family Ties and Teens In Time, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who _hasn't_ heard of him. Especially in Hill Valley, considering the fact that we resemble each other so much. Of course, Mike is just Michael Emmett Brown rather than Michael Andrew – so I suppose that's just enough to avoid causing suspicion."

"Or so one hopes" Lorraine agreed, as she entered the room carrying plates filled with sandwiches. They had been baked in the family oven, and Calvin thought they smelled very good – especially considering what went for breakfast in the timeline he came from. "Breakfast's ready, boys. Hope you like it."

"It certainly looks great, Mom" Marty complimented her. Calvin nodded.

"Thank you" Lorraine replied. "Your Dad is off to the tennis court, and Dave and Linda were sound asleep the last time I checked, so we have the house for ourselves – or at least, until you leave for Dr. Lloyd Brown's place." She sighed. "I have to admit that time travel is still making me uncomfortable. The thought of being a different person prior to your journey back in time… one of you could go back now and change my life again, and I would never know."

"Well, that's the case for us too" Calvin argued. "After all, we don't own the time machines – the Docs do. And they've got them under guard." He sighed. "I still wonder what possessed him to take those names, though. People will get suspicious. At least they live on opposite outskirts of town, and with future aid, they've got tight security."

"That's right" Lorraine agreed. "I'm still worried that somebody might notice one day, though, and suspect time travel was involved. I admit that it wouldn't be the obvious solution, nor something someone would take seriously right away, but seeing that Mike and his family came from a world which was the result of one person taking one quick journey through time… well, it doesn't bode well for what would happen if someone would steal the car again."

Marty nodded. "They _do_ have tight security, you know" he pointed out. "Future technology is amazing. Last time we went over, before their wedding, Chris didn't open the doors until we had spent almost half an hour giving them passwords and codes and information only we could know. The house may look like an ordinary mansion to avoid suspicion, but underneath it all, it's in the process of getting better locked than Fort Knox."

Lorraine sighed warily. "Well, I suppose you know them better than I do" she said. "I just hope it all turns out well. With time travel, ordinary worries seem to fade into nothingness compared to the paradoxes and erasures that might cause."

Calvin smiled, optimistic. "I don't think we have to worry about any of that right now, Mom" he said. "Doc and Chris have two time machines, so even if one is stolen, we could chase whoever did it and catch him before he can change anything."

Lorraine sighed again at that, indicating that she wasn't reassured yet. Calvin could understand that – he wasn't entirely reassured himself either – and instead just resumed eating his meal.

They finished breakfast after just ten minutes, and after getting dressed and fetching a few dollars as a lame wedding gift to the newlyweds, Marty and Calvin headed off to the former's truck. Although the car wasn't his, Calvin was still incredibly thrilled every time he saw it. He had dreamed of this Toyota truck even before he had travelled through time, and the fact that he was allowed generous use of it by his 'twin' made him forget some of the other problems he had with the new reality. This time, though, Marty was the one to take the wheel, and Calvin didn't blame him – after all, his twin was the one who had more experience driving the car, having gotten his new memories where Calvin hadn't.

Shortly after 9:40, they got to the home of Dr. Christopher Lloyd Brown. Marty hadn't been kidding earlier – the building was locked tight. Fortunately, neither Chris or Susan was home right now, and Michael and Claudia were a little softer on security than their parents were. After a brief conversation at the gate, which Calvin was sure Mike was doing partly to tease them, they were allowed into the house.

"Good morning, Marty, Calvin" Claudia greeted, cheerfully. "Nice to see you can be on time for once."

Marty rolled his eyes at the jest. "We're not always late, you know" he defended himself. "Half the time I got late for school, it was because of one of Doc's projects keeping me up late at night."

"Did somebody call my name?" Doc asked, entering the hallway. "Shame on you, Marty, for lying to our hosts like that. The only time I ever created the specific circumstances that would compel you to be late for school was on the day before I demonstrated my time machine to you, and I had my reasons then."

"Yeah, I guess so" Marty allowed. "You never explained what that experiment was for, though."

"It was a minor thing" Doc replied. "Nothing to do with the actual time machine itself, if that's what you're thinking – that night truly was Temporal Experiment Number One, or at least, it was before you went back in time and I had to perform one thirty years earlier." He shook his head. "It's awfully hard to maintain statistics like that when you're a time traveler."

"Yeah, time travelling does play tricks with your brains" Mike agreed. "Did you receive any new information on when Dad and Mom are due to be here, Doc?"

"Not since the last time you asked" Doc said. He sighed, wistfully. "I wish I could have a honeymoon. After so many years, I'd given up on finding love, but seeing that a counterpart of mine who isn't all too different from me could do it…" The inventor shrugged. "Well, we'll see if that happens some day. The future is whatever you make of it, after all."

"That's true" Claudia replied. "If we'd given up hope during the time we were stranded in that horrible world Biff created, when we were still without a time machine and constantly threatened by Tannen's goons… well, I'm sure we wouldn't have been as happy as we are now then." She put an arm around Mike's shoulder, who blushed awkwardly.

"That's no way to behave around your brother" Marty teased. "Is there something deeper going on here?"

Claudia and Mike now both blushed. "Just because you're dating my counterpart doesn't automatically mean that I want to date your other self" the girl pointed out. "Mike and I are siblings and friends, and we're perfectly happy with that."

"Right" Mike said. Somewhat teasingly, he added: "After all, if we married each other, the potential grandchildren Mom and Dad could have would be halved."

Calvin shook his head, smiling. "You know, it's not impossible for them to have natural children" he pointed out. "I thought males were supposed to be able to have kids permanently? And Chris did have a rejuvenation in the future just before the wedding. Doesn't that increase fertility as well?"

"Indeed it does" Doc agreed. "They even warn you about it at the clinic. I didn't pay any attention to the warning at the time because I didn't have any plans for marriage, but now that my counterpart has gotten married, it might be interesting to test the idea. It's certainly not inconceivable that Susan could end up getting pregnant."

"That's a really weird thought" Mike muttered. "Dad and Mom having a baby? After all, we're seventeen. Of course we were adopted, but even so, I would still feel awkward about it."

"What about us?" Marty agreed, pointing at himself and Calvin. "We knew Doc as a bachelor all our life. Him having kids at his age… no offense, Doc, but it sounds so strange that I can't wrap my head around it."

"I can't blame you, for I'm having trouble doing that myself" Doc said. "Well, let's stop clogging my counterpart's hallway. After all, it doesn't look like he and Susan are going to be here yet any time soon."

The others agreed, and as they went into the living room, a smile crept on Calvin's face as he noticed Ann. Although he knew that Ann wasn't exactly another Jennifer clone he could just date, he certainly liked her. In fact, he was paying even more attention to her than to the real Jennifer, who was sitting right next to her. Of course, there were slight differences between the two. Jennifer wore her hair slightly more conservatively, and was in general soft-spoken, moderate and nice. Ann was similar to her, but was slightly brasher, harder and more cynical. That survival mentality she had carried from 1985-A, and was even stronger present in her than in Claudia, despite the fact that she had been the one forced to strip at the Pleasure Paradise. It attracted Calvin to her as he knew the feeling somewhat, considering that all had not been well in the Twin Pines timeline either. For that same reason, Marty continued to prefer Jennifer.

Trying to clear his mind, Calvin took a seat next to Ann and Jennifer. "Hi" he greeted them. "Have you been here long yet?"

Ann shrugged. "Perhaps twenty minutes. Jen wanted to help prepare the welcome party, and I wasn't inclined to disagree with that. She and Claudia baked a delicious cake together, while I put the strings up."

"I see" Calvin replied, looking up at the ceiling. "Well done." Ann blushed at that, and Calvin felt oddly shy as well. "I hope they'll be here soon" he finally settled upon. "Although Doc thought it might take a while yet."

The inventor nodded. "Presumably, yes" he said. "It's, let's see, 9:46 now, and the last time I checked they were still at Sacramento airport. And it's a long drive back to Hill Valley from there, I can assure you."

"Yeah, I know" Marty replied, also taking a seat. "So, you think they won't be back until 10? After 10, even?"

"I'd estimate the probability of them being here before 10 AM to be under 20%" Doc said. "The most likely time for their return is 10:10, but perhaps it might be 10:15. Wouldn't want to get your hopes up early."

"Good point" Mike agreed. "Well, in the meantime, how about we fetch you something to drink? We've got everything except alcohol, because after seeing what it does to Dad, Claudia and I decided not to try it either. Not to mention what it did to my, well, my previous mother. And of course, we're underage."

"I see" Calvin replied, shuddering as he thought of his own mother in the previous timeline – who hadn't been as bad as she had been in the timeline Mike and Claudia came from, but even so. Thankfully, new Lorraine was much less inclined to go for the bottle when in distress.

Claudia nodded. "So, how about a cup of coffee to start off the morning? I know it's early, but I've seen you both yawning, Marty and Calvin."

The twins blushed. "Hey, I can't help it that I've got a hard time waking up early" Marty defended himself. "I just really like my bed. And Calvin hasn't been sleeping very well this week anyway, so I can't blame him either."

Mike smiled. "Just kidding. We'll fetch some coffee – and tea, of course, for who would prefer to have some of that."

He was just setting off for the kitchen when the familiar sound of the door unlatching could be heard. All inhabitants of the room froze, and Claudia turned to her adoptive brother with an icy glare. "Michael Emmett Brown," she said, "didn't you lock the door after we let everybody in?"

"Of course I did!" Mike exclaimed, offended. "I'm sure of that!" Cautious, he took a few steps towards the door.

"You might be, but I keep the spare keys on me at all time and know every password" a familiar grave voice sounded in response. The identity of that person was confirmed when he stepped into the room. "Hi, everyone – we're back."

"Dad!" Mike gawked. "I thought… Doc just told me you couldn't be back until 10:10!"

"No, I said that the probability for them being back before 10 AM was rather low" Doc corrected. "But Mike does have a point, Chris – how come you're back already? I figured you were still halfway to Sacramento."

"You can blame that on Susan" Chris replied, grinning and hugging his adoptive son. "At the end of the trip, she tripped in the airport over some uneven patch of pavement. She came out all right, but the heel of one of her shoes broke and her dress was ruined, and she was feeling a bit embarrassed to face you like that. Since it was still our honeymoon, I proposed to buy her a new set in the Sacramento of the future, and after we did that, we got the idea of flying over to Hill Valley and coming back a little earlier, just to surprise you."

"You certainly surprised us, Dad" Claudia agreed, hugging him as well. "We didn't even hear any sonic booms."

"That's because we broke the time barrier over Clayton Ravine, and then drove over here" her father explained. "I'm not that reckless. Even with the relatively secluded nature of our house here, it's still not perfect, and people might see. I would have preferred an even more secluded place to live, but that was unfortunately way out of our price range."

"Exactly" Susan confirmed, walking in. Calvin saw she was wearing a beautiful dress that could only come from a time beyond theirs. "What do you think?"

"You look great, Mom" Mike complimented, hugging her. Claudia did the same.

"Well, this is something only you could come up with" Calvin remarked, standing up to shake Chris' hand. "Time travelling back just to surprise us at the party?" He shook his head. "With time travel in your life, you can never reasonably expect something anymore."

"Well, it has benefits for the user" Chris grinned, firmly clasping Calvin's hand before the latter went on to Susan. "After all, you never have to be late for an appointment. Of course, I wouldn't recommend using the time machine like that. As you know, it's extremely dangerous to recklessly hop around the space-time continuum without regard for its safety and… are you all right?"

That direction was directed at Calvin, who was standing still in the middle of the room, finding himself suddenly unable to move. He could think of the command to move his leg, but the limb simply remained where it was. What was more, he felt a numbness enveloping his brain and black spots danced in front of him.

"I'm… not sure" the teen groaned, finding it difficult to speak. "I've been… having trouble sleeping for a while… but… this is new. I'm feeling… sick."

"You should sit down" Ann advised, worried. She stood up and held his hand. "You can sit down, can't you?"

"I'm not sure" Calvin admitted, blinking as his vision remained blurred. By some lucky chance, he then gazed at his numbing arms, and suddenly paled. Was he mistaken, or did he just see through his right arm?

He wasn't mistaken, the teen decided, as Marty and Jennifer, who were sitting on the right place to notice it, also gasped. Nevertheless, his vision rapidly weakened, as did his state of mind. "I…" he groaned. "I, I think… I… am going… to…"

He wanted to finish with 'faint', but couldn't make himself say the word. Calvin tried it three times, and finally gave up after the third time. The next moment, everything went black before his eyes and he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note: Another chapter, detailing what happens after Calvin wakes up and ending with another cliffhanger. Calvin is sure in a pickle here. If anyone noticed that I uploaded this exactly one week after the last chapter, that was intentional. I'm hoping to keep that up as a schedule but I can't give you any guarantees. If anyone has any questions, criticism, commentary or praise, please review!  
_

 **Chapter Two**

Saturday, December 14, 1985  
04:00 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California

It seemed like an eternity later when the clouds that had formed in Calvin's mind finally broke. His eyes were firmly snapped shut, and he felt unwell, although slightly better than he had that morning. He groaned, twitching his fingers and slightly moving his arms. Behind him, he became aware of the presence of two similar and very familiar voices arguing.

"…not entirely stable. We can't draw any conclusions just yet."

"That sounds likely, but we have been putting an hour into this. And what will we tell his parents?"

"The same thing we told Marty – that we're trying to wake him up, but that he hasn't responded to the drugs or prodding yet. I know they'll be hurt, but they need to understand that we're trying everything we can."

"We could take him into the future…"

"In his condition? Besides, where would we take him? I'd prefer to hold off travelling to the future unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I understand. I just wish he would wake up soon. Not only is he making all of us very worried, I can test my theories better when he's awake to confirm or deny them." A sigh. "Has there been any change?"

"It looks like he's stirring, but it's been looking like that on and off for five minutes now. We can't draw any conclusions from that."

Calvin, whose confused, clouded mind began to realize that the inventors were talking about him, tried to blink. After some effort, it worked, and he opened his eyes, taking in the room around him. Doc's lab, he concluded. He was on the couch the inventor had placed there, and several wires were attached to places on his arms, as if he were a hospitalized person. "Doc?" he asked, lifting his head somewhat.

"Calvin!" Doc's voice exclaimed. He and Chris rushed over. "Don't try to sit up!"

"Why not?" Calvin asked, confused. "Would it hurt the wiring?"

"No, but it might hurt you" Chris replied. "Your situation is far from stable yet, and if what we saw before you fainted is any indication, your body is highly fluid right now. If you so much as move your leg, you might end up disconnecting one of the bones inside it."

"What?" Calvin exclaimed. He thought hard, remembering the last moments before he had fainted. "Does this have anything to do with my arm flickering in and out of existence?"

The scientists looked at each other, and reluctantly nodded. "It certainly would appear to be so" Doc admitted. "Calvin, it's a long story and we're not entirely sure yet either, but from what we've seen, we concluded that you're in the process of fading from existence. Why it is going so incredibly slow and inconsistent we haven't concluded yet, nor why it's happening at all."

"Well, we presume it must have something to do with the fact that there's not supposed to be a second Marty in the world" Chris explained. "The only problem with that theory is that in that case, it should be affecting me and my family too, for if there should be only one Emmett Brown, one Marty McFly and one Jennifer Parker, we should be erasing too, and none of us is feeling ill yet. I asked the kids and Susan to call if at any time they aren't feeling well, but the phone has remained blissfully silent the entire time we have been here."

"So…?" Calvin said.

"So basically, we haven't got a clue what's going on" Doc admitted. "We tied you up to this equipment both to monitor your condition and to return you to consciousness, because we suspected that the fading process was hindering your body's capacity to wake up, and because that process might be accelerated if you are in a non-resistant state like sleeping. But now, we don't have a concrete idea of what to do besides research and speculation."

"Does that mean that if you don't find the solution, I'm going to fade away entirely?" Calvin asked. He certainly didn't like the sound of that, but it appeared to be the obvious option.

"Perhaps" Chris conceded. "But we're working together on this, hard, and we brought everything we've got into the lab. If there's a solution to this problem, we will give it our best efforts to find it. Don't worry, Calvin. We haven't let you down before and we're not going to start now." Doc nodded in full agreement.

"I guess so" Calvin said. "The idea of fading away still sounds scary, though – although I suppose I pulled through in '55 as well." A memory of the Docs' conversation when they didn't yet know he was alert came up to him. "Did you say you called my parents and told them about my, uh, situation?"

"That's right" Doc replied. "They weren't happy, as you will understand, but they could see the need for us to research you, as well as the fact that we can't exactly take you to a hospital. We can't reveal time travel to the hospital staff, not to mention the fact that they're not equipped to deal with somebody erasing from existence. I will call them now and inform them that you've woken up."

Calvin nodded, as Doc went off. "Are you going to keep me here for now, or can I go soon?" he asked. "I really want to survive, but I'm not looking forward to spending days in the lab tied up to your equipment…"

"We wouldn't inflict that on you" Chris assured him. "Just a few more tests, and unless your situation drastically worsens, I think we're done for the day after that. It shouldn't take more than an hour. We're currently speculating that you're being assaulted in waves of some sorts, meaning that after any given attack of the erasure process, you will eventually recover. We need to do a few more tests to make sure, though – as we said earlier, we can't even trust you to stand upright now."

Calvin nodded again. "I see" he muttered, feeling insecure. On one hand, he wanted to remain strong and confident that he would pull through, and Chris was right – his friends had never let him down before. On the other hand, the concept of erasure from existence was frightening, and even more so when no one had a clue why it was happening. That did remind him of a question, though. "Have you got any idea how long it will take before I fade out?"

"No" Chris admitted. "We don't know anything yet, although I suppose that now you're awake we could widen our range of possibilities for research. The most important thing right now is that you're kept stable."

The teen supposed he could grasp as much, even if he didn't like it. Just then, Doc put the telephone's horn back on the hook and walked over to them, sighing. "They were relieved Calvin woke up, but were naturally concerned as I couldn't tell them anything more. I told them you'll be home in time for dinner, so if we start right away, I am sure we can make that true."

"What will you be testing me on?" Calvin wondered.

"Mostly DNA" Chris replied. "After all, it represents the basics of your existence and we should be able to use future scanners to check if any body cells are disappearing or altering dramatically. From that, we should be able to draw some conclusions about the fading process – although, of course, this is a wholly new level of research. Furthermore, we need to ask you a few questions, test your reflexes, scan and feel the stability of your limbs – all in order to draw a picture of just how far the erasure process is going."

"You can do all that?" Calvin said, surprised. "I thought you just said you didn't want to go to the future for this – and it sounds like stuff that you can't or shouldn't do using ordinary 1980s technology. And neither of you are that kind of doctor, anyway, so you'd pretty much have to resort to easily operable advanced technology."

"We didn't want to take _you_ to the future, that is right" Doc agreed. "There is a valid concern, after all – as we can't currently risk having you sit upright, having you be transported to the DeLorean, even for a brief journey to the future, would be dangerous, at least in the condition you're in now. We'll need to wait a few hours for that, if it turns out to be necessary, and I don't think a future hospital could help you any more than a present-day one can, not being specialized in erasure. But we _can_ get technology from the future without any problems, and we already have a lot of equipment in stock. For the next day or two, I'm fairly certain we're covered. Of course, we still have to deal with the theoretical work."

"Why it's happening" Calvin said, nodding.

"Exactly" Doc said. "Chris and I have been doing some heavy thinking about that, even taking out old time travel theories I had sketched up before I got around to building the DeLorean. We need to know what is at the root of your problem in order to solve it, and we're not having much success with that yet. We do know that you are from another reality to Chris and his family, and that yours is much more similar to mine than his is. However, I would deem it highly unlikely that you would get erased and they wouldn't just for that. After all, they're all alternate timelines, created and erased within a single space-time continuum."

"Yeah, I remember Chris telling me that, back in the alternate '85," Calvin replied, turning to the other inventor as he thought hard. "You described three main timelines – the one I was from, the one I created with my meddling in 1955, and the one Biff made with the almanac. And you erased the other two as soon as you made the new one on the paper you'd sketched it all out on."

"That's correct" Chris agreed. "Although this isn't really the timeline you created in 1955, but a different one that is merely extremely similar, with the difference that in this timeline, Biff got the almanac, lost it in 1958, was given it back by you, and once more lost it later that night."

"Or is it?" Doc wondered. "The whole erasing timeline concept, I mean. What if, for some reason, your timeline wasn't erased and therefore you still exist? As if Biff's journey back to 1955 set off a switch track where the timeline's course shifted in a different way, but the previous timeline still existed?"

"That might have been possible," Chris argued, "but it is disproven by everything we have seen thus far. Why would Calvin's reality erase, and ours survive? And what is fundamentally different between your switch track theory and the concept of parallel timelines or dimensions, where one simply hops from universe to universe rather than creating any changes in his or her own past? And we know that to be untrue, not just from Calvin's example now, but also from his experience in 1955, at the dance!"

"Perhaps Calvin is erasing slowly because it is not really clear which of him, Marty or he, is the true version of Marty that belongs in this timeline" Doc speculated. "But admittedly that's just a wild guess and still doesn't solve your issue."

"Well, that's very interesting" Calvin interrupted, realizing Doc and Chris could go on forever if left alone like this. "Still, weren't you going to test me? I mean, you can still create and reject theories after I leave."

"That's true" Doc admitted. "We should really resume our work on what can be solved right now, rather than on what might not be, at least not for the time being."

Calvin nodded, and watched as the inventors went to work. It was a rather tense experience, being caught up in all this, and he wished he could just go home and relax in his bed. Perhaps listen to some music. He knew, however, that such thoughts were mere pipe dreams. Even if he got home soon, his parents' reaction would keep him from getting any sleep for a long time.

oooooooo

"Oh honey! How could this have happened to you!"

"That's exactly what Chris and Doc are trying to find out, Mom" Calvin quipped. The four of them were in the McFly living room, with Dave and Linda once more conveniently gotten out of the picture, because Dave was at work and Linda had been given chores to do on the upper floor. "They probably won't finish their research for another week, so I'm afraid I can't tell you yet what the problem is."

"You know that's not what your mother means, son" George McFly corrected him. "It was a rhetorical question, and I agree with Lorraine on it – this is an awful situation you're caught up in. Did you have any idea that something like this might happen?"

"I didn't, and if any of the others had, they've been keeping it a secret" Marty replied, as Calvin nodded. "I know Chris worried a lot about whether it would be safe for them to move to the good world exactly because he was terrified that they would all be erased from existence, but after moving back safely and seeing that nothing was happening, it didn't come up again." He shook his head. "I don't get it. How could this be happening now, a full month and a half after you guys moved in! I mean, I know the ripple effect moves slower with people than with objects, but this is getting ridiculous! Uh, no offense, Calvin."

"None taken" Calvin replied. "I don't get it either. No one does, and that's why Doc and Chris are looking so hard for the answer." He shivered. "I hope they find it soon. Even if I'm not in danger of total erasure right away, this half-half state is really freaking me out."

"Well, Mike has offered to help" Marty told him. "You know he's aspiring to be a scientist some day, and Chris thought this would be a great way for him to get some experience. He's not nearly as good at the job as either of the others are, of course, but an extra pair of hands helping out is always good."

"Yeah, I suppose" Calvin replied, though frowning at the thought of his friends kind of considering him to be something to experiment on – which he supposed he was. He shivered. "I really hope I won't die – but what else could be the options? Restoring the original timeline?"

"Although I admit most of it is me being selfish and not wanting our world to change, I really don't think you should do that" his father replied. "After all, wouldn't something like that create one of those paradoxes Doc and Chris are always talking about?"

"Most likely, yeah" Calvin admitted. "Plus, I really don't want to leave any of you. I've gotten so fond of my new family that going back to live in the old timeline isn't appealing to me. I'd lose my new parents, my twin brother, probably Doc as well as he died at Twin Pines Mall, and…" He frowned, abruptly changing the subject. "Do Jennifer and Ann know about all of this?"

Marty grinned. "You bet" he quipped. "Ann tried to stay with you throughout the period when you were knocked out – it's been a long time since I've seen her so riled up over anyone. Which reminds me, Calvin – you two aren't fooling anybody. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Calvin said, frowning.

"I've seen the way you two look at each other" Marty explained. "When you start paying attention – which I finally did a few days ago, admittedly after Jen pointed it out to me – it's so obvious. You have a crush on her, don't you?"

"No, I do not!" Calvin protested. When his twin just kept staring intensely at him, he flinched, just before George and Lorraine were about to say something. "All right, all right – maybe a little bit. But I don't want to. Sure, I like Ann, but I don't want to date someone who looks exactly like Jennifer precisely for that reason. I'll be expecting her to _be_ Jennifer, and she won't be, as her character is different, and she'll be pressured to behave the way I subconsciously think she should behave, not the way she wants to. There are plenty of pretty girls out there, and not all of them look like Jennifer. If I start dating Ann right now, it would feel like I'd be with some Jennifer clone." He sighed. "And besides, she might not like that anyway."

"Perhaps not, perhaps she would" Marty said. "I did say 'the way you _two_ looked at each other'. Ann at least likes you, and pays more attention to you than to me. Jennifer told me you came up more than me in their conversations about love and dating."

"Naturally" Calvin replied. "I'm available, you're not. And perhaps she's thinking the same thing – that we should be together because you two are together. After all, you seem to have the same thoughts. Don't try to deny it – remember what you said this morning about Mike and Claudia?"

"Boys, boys" Lorraine insisted. "Let's not quarrel, shall we? I don't know whether you and Ann should be together, Cal, and I really don't want to get involved in it. Not to mention that there are more important things going on right now."

"You're right, Mom" Calvin agreed. He sighed. "I hope that Doc and Chris find out what's going wrong soon. This whole situation is giving me the chills."

"Same for all of us, Cal" Marty said. "Of course, the only way to really accelerate the progress is to spend more time in the lab – but if I were in your situation, I wouldn't like being a 24/7 guinea pig, either. Not to mention that you would need to go to school."

"Oh man, I hadn't even thought of that yet" Calvin groaned. "What if I have another fainting spell coupled with some fading signs while in class? You're not in all of my classes, and it would look suspicious either way – plus, it would hinder my school work."

"We could call you in sick" Lorraine contemplated. "It is the last week before the holidays, after all – I don't think you will be learning anything really important in the upcoming school days. And even if you decide to go to school, your father and I can and will at any time cover for you." She hugged her son. "Don't worry about that, Calvin. Everything will turn out fine."

"I hope so" Calvin muttered. "It must sound silly, but I'd hate to get major setbacks on school because of this, even if I end up surviving." He smiled. "At least you actually care about that now. I think anything beats that indifferent attitude I got in the old timeline. Only you would occasionally get angry at me for bad grades, Mom – and that would be one heavy outburst."

Lorraine blushed. "Well, I have changed – and credit for that goes to you. I'd hope I wouldn't do something like that anymore, in the new timeline – and when you see me about to do it, you just have to point out to me what I'm doing and I know I'll be horrified enough to stop."

"What about me?" George asked, chuckling. "Don't I deserve any credit for granting you a better life, Lorrie? Admittedly, it was only with our sons'… no, that should be singular, our _son's_ help that I became more confident, but I still ended up being the one to punch out Biff. I think…"

Just then, the doorbell rang. Lorraine and George exchanged confused glances. "Visitors?" the former wondered. "At this time of day? It's almost time for dinner! Speaking of which…" She rushed off to the kitchen, leaving her husband to walk over to the door and open it.

Calvin was about to head back to his room when he heard his father open the door and greet their visitors. "Jennifer!" he exclaimed. "Ann! Come to join us for dinner?"

As the teen looked back towards the doorway, he could see Jennifer and Ann standing there. "If you'd agree to that, Mr. McFly" Jennifer said. "Our intent was just to come over, though. Sorry for the odd time, but we heard from Doc and Chris that Calvin got back, and we wanted to check up on him and see how he was doing."

"That's right" Ann confirmed, smiling brightly as she walked over to Calvin and hugged the startled boy. "Are you all right, Cal?"

"I am," the teenager confirmed, "although Doc did tell me that my bones might end up dislocating if you hug me too fiercely." As Ann released him in horror, he gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I don't feel anything out of the ordinary, so I believe that I've recovered enough since the afternoon to be able to stand a simple hug like this. It's quite a relief, actually – I've felt like I was an eggshell all day. At least that's over… for now."

"For now" Ann repeated, miserably. "I can't believe we're going to be caught up in this for several days – at least, until Doc and Chris find out what on earth is going on."

"I'm sure they will eventually, though" Calvin replied, trying to uplift his friend's spirit. "They are both great inventors, after all – they invented a _time machine_ , for crying out loud. And because of that, they have future technology available whenever they need it. I'm sure they'll find out what is wrong, and fix it."

Marty eyed him suspiciously, and worriedly put a hand on his twin's shoulder. "Is it just me, Cal, or are you just saying that to stop us from worrying?"

Calvin's face fell. "Maybe a bit" he admitted. "I am confident, and I want to be confident, and Doc really is a great inventor. It's just that whenever I lose that confidence, there's just such a deep hole of depression I'll fall into." He shivered. "I really don't want to erase from existence. That was scary enough back in '55, and then I only lived through a small part of the process before it got reverted by Mom and Dad kissing, but it still frightened me."

"Yeah, same here" Marty admitted. "The loss of strength, of memory that envelops you, the whole being pulled into a black hole of what seems to be nothingness – it's so hard to describe that I'm glad I can at least share it with you, because nobody else could compare. Every once in a while, I still have nightmares of it. Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – that whole weekend was filled with enough madness to make me not think about it all the time."

"Oh, how lucky we are" Calvin deadpanned. "We at least have variations in nightmares, ranging from Doc being shot to Biff shooting at us to missing the lightning bolt to…"

"Enough" Jennifer interrupted. "It's not the time to be depressed now, Calvin – although I understand perfectly well you're inclined towards it. You need to keep a bright spirit, you just told us yourself. So, when does Doc think they'll have a solution?"

"Probably in a week" Calvin replied. "When I talked to him about it, he couldn't give me any precise estimate, but from his explanations and estimations I managed to decipher that it should take roughly a week, taking all things into account. And of course, that's what it took last time, when I got stranded in '55."

"Well, getting you out of that other world took Chris two months" George pointed out. Seeing the stricken look on his son's face, he hastily added: "I wouldn't think it would take that long this time around, though. He's got all sorts of future technology available now, and he can travel there whenever he likes with his time machine. And if he's working together with Doc and Mike, the project should go faster."

"Or slower, if they keep disagreeing on what to do" Calvin pointed out. "They were arguing when I woke up this afternoon."

"Perhaps they'll argue over trivialities" his father agreed. "But I'm sure they both understand the importance of this enough that they won't do it all the time, and will try to find a solution. Your life is at stake here, son, and I know that Doc and Chris owe theirs at least partially to you. They'll do everything in their power to find a solution."

"Yeah, probably" Calvin admitted. Then, frowning, he added: "If there _is_ a solution to this mess."

"Don't say that" Ann rebutted him, firmly taking hold of his shoulders. "I get that this is a complex situation, and that neither of us understands why it's happening, but I am confident that they _will_ find a way to solve it. They are going to move heaven and earth to fix your mess and they will succeed in it, Calvin Arthur McFly. Repeat that after me."

"They will succeed" Calvin repeated.

Ann frowned. "You don't sound very convinced."

Calvin sighed warily. "It is hard to be convinced about something this important" he said. "This is a matter of life and death – I'd prefer there to be no risk at all that things go wrong, and there is one. But I suppose I've been through that before, and I came out all right in the end, so…" He shrugged, and then smiled faintly. "You're right. I should be confident. They will succeed."

"That's right" Marty said, patting his brother's shoulder. "If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything." Taking a sniff of the air, he added: "And now, let's stop talking about all this and head for the kitchen. I believe dinner's ready."

oooooooo

The rest of the week passed in a blur for Calvin, albeit a very confusing one. Every day, he went over to Doc Brown's lab, and he was tested on all sorts of things. The teen had wondered whether they would need a medical doctor after all to check the complex stuff like DNA, but Doc and Chris seemed to be handling the matter fine themselves. After the testing was finished, which took about three hours, he'd usually go home, and look back upon the scientists who were already busy chattering about what they'd just found.

After that first day, Doc and Chris never informed him again about just exactly what they were discovering. Although Calvin understood they didn't want to lift his spirits without reason or do the opposite, as the week went on he got increasingly annoyed by it. Furthermore, they were also researching things that didn't appear to have anything to do with the problem, involving mechanical future technology. In the back of the lab, he could see a device being constructed that reminded him somewhat of the sleep inducer. He wondered why they would need another such thing – he was cooperating willingly, after all. And if they just needed an ordinary sleep inducer, couldn't they get one of those things from the future?

The future ended up being a place he never got to go to, as Doc and Chris stuck to the present, except some occasional time trips of their own which Calvin could see at the DeLorean's Last Time Departed, all somewhere in the 2020s – although those could have been unrelated to the matter at hand. He himself remained in the present. Which was just as well as he did have some more erasure attacks, one of which didn't just make his arm transparent but his entire body, and made his hand vanish on top of that. Calvin was seriously freaked out by all of them, and they appeared to be getting worse. Fortunately, it only happened twice, and he seemed to be able to take them better as they went along, with the strange forms of pain he felt becoming normal. He remained out for much shorter periods of time, too – after the first he was unconscious for three hours, and when the second happened, despite its intensity, he came to after just one hour and twenty minutes.

Finally, as the week's end neared, Calvin got the feeling that they were nearing a solution to the problem. Doc and Chris still didn't tell him anything, and even Mike didn't allow his friend to pry whatever part of the solution he knew of loose, but he certainly got the strong feeling something was up. And thus it wasn't entirely unexpected when Chris told him at the end of Saturday's day of work and testing, that he should invite his entire family over the next evening, because there was something about which they needed to be informed…


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note: All right, this chapter is a complicated one given that it tries to explain a theory which was very vague in my head when I wrote it down. If anyone needs any more explanation feel free to ask me, but I think Doc and Chris are explaining it as well as I could possibly do it myself. Finally, there's a bit of a retcon in this chapter, which I'll tell you upfront as not to cause any more confusion; Chris mentions Calvin went to October 21st, 2015 after leaving 1958 the first time in "I Didn't Invent Any Time Machine". That's not true to the story, but it's something I needed to change to make the time travel mechanics fit - if Calvin had returned to 1985 without time getting the chance to go past October 2015, there would have been no means for Doc and Marty to return home and be around for Calvin to meet them. Or at least, that's how I imagine time travel works in my head when there's several time machines involved. I'm probably making it sound more complicated than it is now. Anyway, I didn't rewrite that part of IDIATM because I couldn't work out how to fit it in, but that's how it happened now. And well, that's it for my confusing-sounding Author's Note. Please read and review!  
_

 **Chapter Three**

Sunday, December 22, 1985  
07:30 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California

Looking up at the equipment in front of him, Calvin McFly swallowed nervously. They had all been gathered in Doc's house – he, Marty, their parents, Jennifer and Ann and their parents, Mike, Claudia, Susan, and of course Doc and Chris themselves. When they had come in, he had immediately been guided into the living room, where Calvin had once more noticed the strange sleep-inducer lookalike device, which now appeared to be completed. Marty had asked him what it was, and he had replied that he hadn't got any idea. And now, roughly twenty minutes after he had arrived, he still hadn't.

With everyone now present, sitting on their chairs and waiting anxiously, Calvin finally dared to ask the question which was on everybody's minds. "Are you going to explain all this to us, now?" he questioned Chris, who was pacing up and down the room, alternating between checking some calculations, making sure the computers were doing their job, and fetching their guests coffee.

"In a minute" the inventor promised, stopping to look at Calvin. "I understand that you're eager to know what this is all about, and we're not planning to have you all wait much longer, but Emmett needs to fetch the chalkboard. We've decided to use it in order to explain to you just exactly what the problem we're dealing with is."

"A chalkboard, Chris?" Susan repeated, chuckling. "Why didn't you use the computer?"

"Because the main explanations could just as well be done on ordinary chalkboards, and likely would be more comprehensible, even" her husband replied. "And we didn't want to install the necessary equipment for a computer viewing that everyone would be able to see – it might not have taken more than an hour, but it's unnecessary, so…" He shrugged. "If it ends up not working out, we'll use the computers."

At that moment, Doc entered, hauling with him a large chalkboard. Chris rushed over to help him, and they set it up at the front of the room. They then turned to the crowd, which had mostly silenced at the unexpected sight. It therefore didn't take Doc much effort to ensure that everybody was quiet as they began the demonstration.

"As you're all well aware," the inventor began, "a week ago we discovered that Calvin was fading from existence. Ordinarily such a process would commence perhaps a few days at most after the event occurs that sets history on such a path that his existence would become impossible. Then – although admittedly we haven't witnessed that process yet, not in its entirety – it would occur relatively quickly, as seen with Marty in 1955. What is happening to Calvin is therefore a mystery to us, as not only didn't it commence a full month and a half after he came to live in this world, it is also going extremely slowly and irregularly. Calvin, you are fine right now, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah" the teen responded. "I had a stomach ache this morning, but it was gone soon after. The last time I really had another erasure attack was yesterday afternoon."

Chris nodded, taking over from his counterpart. "Furthermore, my wife and family are also from another reality, like Calvin is" he continued. "Therefore, if anything would be affecting Calvin's existence, then logically it would also be affecting ours. Admittedly, we are from a different reality than Calvin is, and one which resembles this world much less – but logically, that shouldn't have to make any difference. We therefore had a conundrum on our hands, and after various testing and theorizing, we finally decided to ask you to come over tonight because we think we might have a valid theory for why all of this is happening – although it's not a nice one."

Calvin took a deep breath. "Explain" he said.

"I will – although I'm warning you, this will require a lot of fourth- and even fifth-dimensional thinking" Doc replied, walking up to the chalkboard and drawing a line on it. At the left he set '1955', somewhat more to the right he put '1958' and at the right end he wrote '1985'. "Imagine that this line represents time" he started. "I am here showing the original timeline in the period from 1955 to 1985. For the purpose of this evening, we will call it timeline A, although there has been some habit to call the alternate timeline Chris and his family are from by that name but that is irrelevant right now. This is the timeline in which George and Lorraine were unhappily married, and the mall was named Twin Pines." He shot an apologetic look at Calvin's parents, who were blushing. "Marty and I met in 1975 in that timeline, and ten years later I was shot at the mall while performing my first time travel experiment. Marty jumped back in time thirty years, creating timeline B." The inventor drew a line in the form of a half-circle with its ends at 1955 and 1985, and drew a short diagonal line off the 1955 part before creating a straight line just right of it. "Now you will remember," he continued, "that this Marty is the one prior to time travel and is therefore Marty _and_ Calvin. They are the same – it is just one Marty McFly."

"Check, Doc" Marty replied. The others nodded in agreement.

Doc nodded at them. "During the week Marty spent in 1955" – he took a piece of red chalk and accentuated the first part of timeline B – "he managed to get his parents to fall in love and went back to the future. This is where their paths separate. Marty ended up going back to 1985" – another half-circle to the end of the line – "and went with me to the future. There, Biff Tannen got his hands on the time machine." The inventor drew another half circle, this one starting in the space above 1985, and ending in-between 1955 and 1958. "We still don't know when Biff went back to in the 1950s to give himself the almanac, but what we do know is that it occurred after Marty's visit to 1955 or at least after his arrival, because Calvin did exist in that November week." The inventor drew a new diagonal line from the point Biff arrived, and a second adjacent line where he added 'C' at the end after 1985. "Therefore, despite the radically different world Biff created, in which Michael ended up growing up and becoming that timeline's version of Marty, there was still a version of Marty" – the scientist tapped on the red part of the line – "who was in 1955, even in the past of timeline C, because Biff couldn't have changed it without going to a time before then. And that Marty also ended up going forwards" – another half-line – "and because that was the new timeline, timeline C, he ended up in the 1985 of timeline C. That Marty was our Calvin." He turned to his crowd. "Still with me so far?"

"It's very confusing, but I think I get it" George McFly replied. His wife nodded, as did Robert and Marlene Parker. "Although perhaps you could use more colors of chalk, just to ensure it's clear. But go on – I'd like to know how much relevancy this has to Calvin's actual situation right now."

"I'm getting there" Doc replied. "Now, as you know, Calvin ended up spending two months in the alternate 1985 of timeline C, along with Mike. The reason he didn't get erased from existence then is unclear, but presumably it was because that timeline was headed towards a paradox anyway, and thus Calvin wouldn't necessarily have to disappear – but never mind that right now. The point is that Calvin ended up visiting 2010 with all of the A-family, and eventually wound up going back in time from 1985 to 1958, creating timeline D." Another half circle and diagonal line with accompanying horizontal line was drawn, this one starting in 1958. "This timeline is a near duplicate of timeline B, with only the years between Biff getting the almanac and losing it to Calvin being different."

"Within this timeline," Chris then added, taking over, "Calvin jumped to the evening of October 21st 2015, which was shown in the almanac as the date he should look for the locals. However, he couldn't find them, and headed back to 1985. Due to his visit to 2015, the timeline had for the first time gone on to the point where Old Biff returned the DeLorean, and so Emmett and his group had left shortly before Calvin did. Therefore, when Calvin headed back to 1985, he found Emmett and Marty there. This is timeline E – although in reality timeline F, due to the fact that Emmett and Marty would have created another timeline themselves while going back, with Calvin being undisturbed by the reality change and creating a wholly new timeline himself by going back to 1985." He grinned, noticing the perplexed looks on the faces of their visitors. " _Now_ are you still with us?"

"Not really, but carry on" Jennifer muttered. "So, we're now in timeline E? Or F?"

"For convenience's sake, we'll call it timeline F and add a ripple down from 1985-D to it" Doc replied, doing so on the chalkboard. However, now I'd like you all to pay attention, because here it really starts to get confusing as it will now involve multiple dimensions."

"Dimensions?" Calvin questioned.

"Indeed" Doc confirmed. "Calvin, you didn't start erasing in 1985-F because you were there too short for the ripple effect to catch up to you – you had come through several different timelines and eras thus far, after all, and only were there for a few hours. However, judging from the information we've acquired now, you went through a much more complex situation afterwards, and that is the reason you're now reacting so slowly." When the teen continued to give him a baffled look, the inventor proceeded. "As you remember, you, Marty and I decided to connect the time machines to each other that night, in order for the transition process to go smoother."

"That's right" Calvin agreed. "Are you saying that that would have done something to the time travel process?"

"Exactly" the inventor said. "The process of linking the two time machines went fairly far, allowing the one in the main car to control the Destination Time of the other car, and combining the outputs of the flux capacitor – in fact, assembling both flux capacitors _together_. Thus, the Fusion and plutonium reactors were combined, creating an overload of 2.42 gigawatts." He sighed awkwardly. "As you might recall, I mentioned that one of the reasons for creating such a complex construction was to avoid creating two timelines at once by going back at the same time, which might cause us to punch a hole in the space-time continuum so big that we could be sucked into another parallel dimension. Well, it turns out that I was wrong. The construction we built didn't avoid the problem, but worsened it instead. We ended up _creating_ a new, duplicate dimension when we went back in time."

"Creating a new dimension?" Marty said skeptically. "Is that even possible?"

"Apparently, it is" Mike answered before Doc or Chris could say anything. "I don't understand it either, but all the tests we have done points to the theory that every time we or you travelled back or forwards in the combined time machines, a new dimension was created, with an identical past until the moment you came in. That was why we never noticed anything off – the new dimension was simply created from the moment you came in, and you didn't see any more changes than you expected to see."

"Then what's the difference between a normal timeline and a dimension like that?" Lorraine asked.

"There isn't really one" Doc admitted. "Except for the fact that unlike timelines, dimensions simply continue their existence once you leave it, so the original dimension we came from still existed alongside with the one we were unwittingly creating. Due to that, there wasn't any issue with people erasing either, since people from one dimension can and will co-exist with the locals of another – and that's exactly why Chris and his family haven't ended up with those problems." He turned to Chris. "Would you like to explain the next part?"

"Certainly" the other inventor agreed. He drew a new line somewhat lower on the board, and labeled it 'Dim. 1', once again putting '1958' and '1985' at the ends. "This is the original dimension," he unnecessarily stated. "When going back in time and universes, the dual time machine created dimension 2" – he drew a diagonal line from the right end to the left end of another parallel line from it – "which was the place in which Calvin returned the almanac to Biff. However, due to the connection between the time machines, when you travelled to 1985, _another_ universe must have been created" – he drew one more diagonal and horizontal line – "dimension 3, which they ended up in on New Years' Eve of that year, and which must have been exactly the same as dimension 2 up until the point that they arrived. This is the dimension my family and I are from. With Marty's extensive help, we were freed from Biff, and travelled back to 1958 – another parallel line and diagonal line to accompany it – creating dimension 4. There, we took the almanac from Biff once more, and after that we disconnected the two time vehicles. There we come to our confusing element."

Doc nodded. "Robert, Marlene, I've asked your daughter to come over twice this last week, haven't I?" Jennifer and Ann's parents nodded. "When I did that, we still hadn't entirely developed this theory, and wanted to see if there was anything in Jennifer's DNA similar or dissimilar to ours, since she stayed in her home dimension the whole time. The result was, surprisingly, a match. Where as there was a slight discrepancy in the DNA of my counterpart and his family that we pinpointed as being due to them originating from a different dimension, Jennifer's DNA didn't seem to be any different from that of me, or my Marty, or Calvin. Therefore, the obvious conclusion is that Jennifer is also from dimension 1, and thus, that we somehow managed to return to it from dimension 4. This _is_ dimension 1, which explains exactly why Calvin is the only one feeling ill – he is the only one who is both a duplicate of our Marty and from this dimension."

Their guests were baffled. "But why would you end up back in this world?" Robert Parker asked. "Even if the cars were disconnected again, wouldn't it just work like normal time travel – which I suppose is an oxymoron – and leave you in the 1985 of dimension 4? And even if it didn't for you, why didn't it happen for the other version of you either?"

"That's exactly what we've been trying to resolve" Chris replied. "Most likely, Emmett and Marty ended up back in this dimension because, freed from the compulsion to hop through various universes at once, his time machine returned to its home – which was, of course, this world. We're not sure yet why we ended up going along. The most likely argument until now is that we left some equipment in place while dismantling the connection in 1958 – admittedly, we were in a hurry – and that was just enough to maintain a link between our two cars strong enough to at least synch up the dimensional part of the destination, and send us to the world my counterpart was from – even though we left 1958 over half a minute after my other self and Marty did."

"Right…" Marty replied. "Well, Doc, Chris, I can't say that this isn't interesting, and it sounds plausible. But what exactly does this have to do with Calvin's slow fading process, and more importantly – how does it give us a clue for doing something about it?"

"We were just getting to that" Doc said. "From the research we have done through the past weeks, it appears that the dimensional jump has drastically decelerated Calvin's fading process. I just described to you all the journeys Calvin made even before he left this dimension – it would probably have taken the ripple effect a few days to catch up with him even if he had just stayed home in 1985 after getting back to the 'good' future. However, he also visited other dimensions, three of them even, and that appears to have distorted the process much more. The ripple effect has thus become much slower, something we are now able to measure because of this." He pointed at the gadget Calvin had noticed earlier. "This is the Ripple Effect Indicator, or REI. Chris and I built it together, and judging from it, starting on October 27th, the effect has been catching up to Calvin at roughly 3 years each day – in which years hopped in another dimension could be down to only one year per day, while years hopped through in our dimension, although going significantly slower than in a normal erasure process, could be up to 4 years per day."

Marty frowned. "But didn't the effect work much slower that week I was trapped in '55?" he asked. "You told me that one week after pushing Dad out of the way of Grandpa's car, the ripple effect had reached 1968 or at least my conception in 1967, so wouldn't that have been slightly less than 2 years per day?"

"That's true," Chris acknowledged, "but you're forgetting one thing. In 1955 you were erasing so slowly because of the future being in a relative state of flux and you still being capable of pushing it back into a direction so that you _would_ exist, as you eventually did – a chance that ended up becoming less likely as the week passed. However, if something radically changes in the past that makes something virtually impossible – like with the newspapers changing – the change _would_ be almost instantaneous. This process is more like something in-between; Calvin still exists in this world, but as you, as Marty McFly, and therefore he is not fading as fast as he would have if there hadn't been any Marty at all, or when he hadn't had any dimension hops in-between, but not as slow as he would if he were still well before the fatal point in 1968 and the Marty McFly that would be born could still become him. Get it?"

"I suppose" Marty muttered, confused.

Calvin then piped up. "So, does the fact that you built that Ripple Effect Indicator mean you can tell me when I'll end up erased from existence?"

Doc and Chris shared awkward looks. "It does" the former admitted. "If nothing changes between now and then – and that's a big if, considering the fact that we're planning to do everything we can to help you – the ripple effect would likely fully catch up to you a few days after the New Years, erasing you from the time stream. The symptoms you've been displaying now will likely get worse in the meantime, although it might not seem so to you as you grow more accustomed to them."

As Calvin bent his head down in desperation and depression, a murmur grew throughout the crowd. Lorraine was horrified; George was as well, but seemed more resigned, as if he had already been anticipating something like this. The others seemed to be in a state of shock, with the exception of Ann, who was casting her eyes down and blinking in a manner that made it obvious she didn't want anyone to see she was near tears. Only Mike looked relatively normal, mostly because he'd seen much of it coming. He absent-mindedly patted his sister on her shoulder, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, and finally he turned to the two scientists who were still standing uncomfortably at front. "Dad?" he asked.

"Yes, Mike?" Chris replied.

"I think I've got an idea to – well, not solve, but at least postpone this mess."

The inventor shared glances with his counterpart, then shrugged. "Let's hear it, son" he said, friendly.

Mike did. "So, basically," he began, "all the time travelling Calvin has done is slowing down his erasure process, right?"

"That's what we've concluded from everything that we have researched, yes" Doc replied. "Do you mean…"

He did. "So why don't we just take Cal back and forwards as far as possible? You can travel in a time period covering ten thousand years with that thing, remember, so if we took the DeLorean back to zero AD – well, technically I suppose it would be one AD – and then forwards to 9999 AD, we might get up to twelve thousand days added to his lifetime – that's forty years, Dad, Doc. Even if the calculations you made were wrong, it should at least be enough to last him quite a while. And in the meantime, you can work on a more permanent solution to the problem."

"Hey, yeah, that's right, Doc" Marty chimed in. "You could take Calvin back as far as you want – perhaps even beyond zero, if you'd install some sort of B.C. readout." He frowned. "You know, I've always wondered why you never did that in the first place. You are limiting your destinations with the system you have now, aren't you?"

"That's right" the inventor admitted. "But travelling back before the start of our calendar could bring me into areas of theological-geologist disputes, and while I suppose it might be interesting to get the answer to those questions, I believe there are some things that should remain a mystery and a matter of faith. There are so many controversies and questions you could solve with the time machine – indeed, that is one of the reasons I've built it – and you can't go on forever with it. Besides, even if one could go back millions of years and there would be a dinosaur-populated world with no humans there, the risk of changing history is too great. You know how much can be changed in just thirty years. Today is one more piece of evidence for that. So, limiting backwards time travel is reasonable enough. Furthermore, travelling to the future, I'm of a mind to stick close to home as well. Take weaponry, for one thing. Just hundred years ago, people were fighting on horses and with primitive guns. Right now, we have devastating nuclear weapons that can be used to destroy countries. Take that to its natural conclusion, and by 2100 every man might be able to build a device that could destroy humanity. Worldwide change in technology and culture has been accelerating exponentially over the last years, and I've stuck close to home thus far because I'm very uncertain about what I might find if I went too far."

Chris nodded. "My counterpart is right" he agreed. "That's part of the reasons why I kept my time machine and travels within the same limits – and, of course, the need to follow my original counterpart's system. But Mike has got a point. If well prepared, we could launch an expedition into the far past, making a brief hop to the start of our calendar before returning home. Only staying there for a few minutes could do wonders for Calvin's condition."

The boy in question began to smile. "That might work" he agreed. "But we should be very careful, shouldn't we? Even if we're just going to hang out over Hill Valley in that time period for a while, we might want to research if there are any Indians around that might see us."

"Exactly" Doc confirmed. "That might cause significant changes to history, something we need to avoid at all cost lest we worsen the situation. Unfortunately, I don't think records are available that are so detailed and precise that they explain the location of every tribe in the area around that time. Even in the future, I don't think we'd be able to find that information. We'd just have to hope that we don't run into anything or anyone – and take precautions for if we do."

"Is that really necessary?" Ann wondered. "Wouldn't you just have to stay for only a few minutes, as you just said, in order for Calvin's situation to be improved?"

"Theoretically, yes" Chris agreed. "But we don't know much about his condition yet – what we've just told you is in fact _all_ theorizing, with very few facts to go on. The best option would be to hang around for a while and do a few tests before going back home. The better we know what's wrong and how it all works, the better we know how to fix it – and that's something I intend to do, permanently, no matter how long we could postpone Calvin's erasure due to journeys in time."

"And what would that permanent solution look like?" Susan wondered. "Taking Calvin to another dimension again?" She suddenly shivered. "Chris, you're not planning to leave him there, are you?"

Her husband shook his head reassuringly. "Not if there is any other option" he told her. "And only if Calvin would agree to it. I suppose that, presuming we could find a way to travel between dimensions, it would be the safest plan, but I wouldn't like it. My counterpart and I want to find a way for Calvin to survive that involves him staying in this dimension, and I'm sure Calvin agrees with that a hundred percent." The teen vigorously nodded his consent. "And besides, it might not even be possible to open a gate to another dimension and return safely. Despite all we've told you, I'm thinking that when we all returned to this dimension, it might have been more luck than something made inevitable due to the time vehicle's new control system."

"Yeah, this whole dimension travel thing does sound like a tricky business" Calvin agreed. "And… you know, I suppose that if we'd open another hole through dimensions the same way we did before, we could create a duplicate of this dimension, right?" Chris nodded. "But well, I wouldn't want to leave _you_ behind – and besides, if we're doing that, wouldn't those others be doing the same with their Calvin?"

"Now there's an interesting question" Chris speculated. "I would think that, if we just hopped ahead a minute while simultaneously shifting into another dimension, we'd end up in a world where Calvin also left but just didn't return… but would that mean we'd be depriving them of their Calvin?" The inventor frowned. "Hmm. We'd have to think about that some more. One more reason to keep this all within the realm of theories for now rather than basing any concrete action on it – besides Mike's plan, of course, which couldn't cause any harm nevertheless."

"Yes, I think we can do that without any worries" Doc agreed. "But of course, that will have to be planned thoroughly as well. I don't think we'll need any native clothes this time, as the whole point of the expedition is to avoid being seen by locals, but just in case, we might want to bring some tools to help repair parts of the time machine, if they are damaged."

"I'd hate to think of that happening" Calvin said, wincing. "The thought of being trapped in another era – again – is bad enough, but having it be a primitive time period like 0 AD would totally suck."

"I can't help but agree with you" Chris nodded. "We'll have to take strong precautions for everything, but fortunately you don't have school to go to tomorrow or any other upcoming day due to the holidays, so we'll be able to go as early as possible, without having to worry about the need to follow classes while either preparing, or the day after our departure and subsequent return. Of course, logically, we should be able to come back just the moment after we left, but as you know, our journeys rarely go off without a glitch."

Calvin nodded. "So, when are we going to leave? Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it should be" Doc confirmed. "There are a lot of things we need to prepare and you can't just leave right now, not if we want everything to be done right. But I'm sure we can make everything ready for us to leave tomorrow evening. If you put your mind to it, after all, you can accomplish anything."

oooooooo

The next day was filled with frantic preparation of all that might be needed on the short journey to the past. Doc made sure to refill the gas tank, while Chris collected the tools they would need if anything went wrong, and Mike headed off to the town library. After several hours of extended research, he reported back home that he had found everything about Hill Valley roughly two thousand years ago which there was to find, and that it was virtually nothing. There were some small tribes in the area around that time, but Mike reported that it would be highly unlikely for them to run into those groups.

Meanwhile, Calvin had another difficult task to accomplish – convincing his mother and father to let him go. While they understood that the trip was going to be short, they were still reluctant to agree to something which could potentially strand their youngest son in a time so far from his own that the entire country didn't even exist yet (which, admittedly, considering the United States' relatively short history, was not much of a feat). When Calvin pointed out that Doc and Chris had taken numerous short trips to the future on which nothing had happened, and indeed that Chris had even taken two during his own honeymoon, they became a little more willing to let him go, although especially Lorraine still gave him such a firm hug just before he went off to the Brown house that Calvin thought he would choke.

Next up was the question of who would actually be going back in time. That Calvin was going there could be no doubt – after all, he was the one whose health was in danger. That either Doc or Chris or both would be coming along to fly the car was a given as well, and when they both decided to go there was no objection. However, Mike, his sense of curiosity piquing up at the thought of seeing the area Hill Valley would one day be in so long ago – even if, as he admitted himself, there wouldn't be all that much to see except fields and some hills – wanted to go along, as did Ann, who almost seemed to get emotional at the thought. Doc and Chris, however, thought this was absurd, considering the fact that it was just a brief trip and that cramming five people into a two-seater car for no good reason was unthinkable. Thus, Mike and Ann were forced to stay in Doc's lab, where they would wait for the others to return.

After drilling Calvin on the tiniest details of his impending trip – and freaking out when the poor kid once more complained about feeling faint and the equipment to monitor erasure was already being rushed in before Calvin declared everything was all right again – Doc and Chris headed with him to the DeLorean that would be used that night. They had resolved to use Doc's DeLorean, for no real reason except that Calvin was one of his versions of Marty, and after refilling the Fusion reactor they got inside. After Doc rattled off his newly-introduced password for entry to the time circuits, they turned on and Calvin could see the readouts.

Destination Time  
DEC 20 1985 01:00 AM

Present Time  
DEC 23 1985 10:53 PM

Last Time Departed  
DEC 19 2025 07:54 PM

"Where to?" he asked. "Just January 1st of the year zero?"

"There _is_ no year zero" Doc pointed out. "Admittedly, I did talk about going back to a date within that year during the time machine's first test, but that was mostly intended to show you exactly how the time machine worked and to give you an impression of what one could do with it rather than an actual analysis. Christ probably wasn't born on December 25th, either. I suppose typing in zero might just end us in the year 1 B.C. – which might not be a bad idea, considering that we want to give you as much time as possible to shield your internal functions from the ripple effect." He raised his voice. "Destination Time: January 1st, 0, 6:00 AM."

His counterpart frowned. "Are you sure you want to risk this, Emmett?" he asked with some skepticism. "You don't know if the car will be able to complete the transit. Wouldn't it be safer to just go to 1 AD instead? It's only a year of difference, after all."

"Perhaps you're right," Doc admitted, "but I did install the 0 AD option into the time circuits when I first built the DeLorean, and it did register the date as possible. Judging how the time vehicle works and the time circuitry's internal components, logic dictates that the car should just take us to 1 BC."

"Maybe" Chris agreed. "You might be right, but it still sounds very risky to me. Do you really want to do that? I understand that it would be interesting to find out what happens if you go back that far – as a matter of fact, I've spent some time wondering about it – but there are risks involved, and we did have some bad luck the previous times we attempted to go back on what should have been an easy journey. Isn't that exactly why we spent so much effort on preparing this?"

"It is" Doc said. "Still, as you said, it would be very interesting to find out if the time vehicle would complete the transit – even though, admittedly, there wouldn't be a way to check unless we were to fly over to Europe and convert Roman dates to ours, taking into account other date changes that might have happened in-between. But it is much safer than, say, going forwards to December 31st of 9999 and wait for midnight to occur. In that case, the time circuits would have to describe a date it cannot describe, namely the year 10.000 – which would cause system failure. This is a safer possibility to satisfy our curiosities."

As he saw Chris raising his voice to object to that, Calvin spoke up. "I don't want to cause you to fight, Doc, Chris" he said. "Let's just leave now, okay? It's 10:57 already, and you did promise that we'd be back by eleven. Mike and Ann are going to be either angry or worried if we're not."

The two inventors exchanged glances. "Fine" Chris finally muttered, resigned. "But if something goes wrong, you can fix it on your own." His features softened. "Now that's just a joke – but I won't make you forget this if it goes wrong, Emmett Lathrop Brown."

"I wouldn't expect anything else, Christopher Lloyd Brown" Doc responded, grinning. He took the car up into the air and flew out of the house, into the night sky. The car rapidly accelerated to 80, then remained stuck at that speed for roughly half a minute as they flew towards Clayton Ravine.

As they got there, Calvin cast a look at the RPI, which was stashed in the back. Although he still didn't entirely get how the device worked, Doc and Chris had given him some explanation, and from what he could figure out now, it was indicating that his full erasure was only several days away. He gulped, and turned back to the windshield as Doc resumed accelerating up to 88. His final thought as they kicked back in time was one of hope – hope that when they got to the past, his impending death would not be so impending anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note: A chapter which is less complicated than last, but still convoluted. It gets easier soon as we enter the actual plot, I promise. (Not that this isn't part of the plot yet, but I think you get what I mean.) Anyway, in this chapter, Doc, Chris and Calvin discover that sometimes things go wrong when time travelling, and that little things can have major consequences. Not that they didn't know that before, of course, but this serves as a very painful and powerful reminder. Please read and review!  
_

 **Chapter Four**

Friday, January 1, 1 B.C.  
06:00 AM PST  
Future site of Hill Valley, California

Up until the split second before they actually hit 88, Calvin had thought that the gruesome thought of an impending death was something nobody could put out of his mind now. He soon found out, however, how wrong he was.

When the time machine reached eighty-eight miles per hour, Calvin saw the flux capacitor light up. That was normal – well, about as normal as anything could be within a time machine. He also saw light cover the windshield, which was normal as well. What he saw afterwards, though, was most decidedly not normal.

Before him and his compatriots, a world introduced itself around the car that they couldn't even begin to describe. It was dark, and yet there were strange flashes of light. There was loud screeching and yet it was as silent as the grave. There was a large aroma of scents, much more than Calvin thought he'd ever smelled before, but it all came down to the same horrifying scent underneath. His heartbeat sped up to a ratio which he had never before thought survivable and yet there was an eerie calmness around him. It felt like they were moving as fast as a rocket and yet from what he saw outside the wheels were unmoving and the view was unchanging. It was, to put it in one word, nuts.

As he tried to move his head to look at the speedometer in order to check that last observation, Calvin found out that he couldn't. It felt eerily similar to what he had felt just prior to fainting the last times – he certainly felt like he had moved his head, but his view didn't change and when he lifted his arm, it didn't come into his sight either. Calvin's mind couldn't control his body anymore, and the tiny part of his rational thought process that still worked realized that he was moving deeper into the subconscious parts of his brain as the outer world was shut off for him. Memories flashed before his eyes seeming more realistic than the world around him, of his old life, his week in 1955, his adventures in the alternate 1985... they got more realistic as time passed, too, for as far as Calvin could still sense time passing. It was possible that it wasn't passing at all. A strangely calming feeling came over him, a feeling that the teen imagined must be the one overcoming someone who was dying. Which was, in essence, what he was doing now.

Just before he thought he was going to lose his life, normalcy reintroduced itself as sudden as it had stopped, and the car entered a pre-dawn sky. It was now moving again, and as Calvin looked around, he could see Doc and Chris again, who appeared to be just as disoriented as he was. Which wasn't good, because as a result of that, the vehicle was plunging towards the ground.

From the sight of it, it took an immense force of will on the older man when Doc finally moved again, grasped the controls and pulled the steering wheel back just enough to prevent them from destruction. They still landed awkwardly and shaken, but at least they hadn't crashed. Calvin stared ahead disoriented for about a minute afterwards, as did the others, with neither person saying a thing.

Finally, Chris spoke up. "Emmett?" he said, in a croaked, somewhat unfamiliar voice that took a few moments before it got back to a recognizable level. "Remember when I joked about letting you fix this on your own if things went wrong?"

Doc nodded. "Yes?"

"Well, I have half a mind to let you do that anyway, joke or no joke."

Doc sighed. "I can understand the feeling" he replied. "I was already thinking the same. But I can assure you, Chris, not in my wildest dreams had I imagined that this would happen." He shuddered. "It probably didn't last more than a few seconds, but they felt like hours."

"I understand that you hadn't intended to do this, Emmett" Chris said, significantly softer in his manner now. "It's just that – well, I did realize things could go wrong, but I hadn't thought they could go _this_ wrong!" He, too, shuddered. "I suppose that we should have thought about the possibility, after last week's research, but I never gave it serious consideration."

"But what happened?" Calvin pressed, noticing to his relief that his voice, too, seemed to be all right again. "Do you have an idea?"

"We can't know for sure, since we were as surprised by this as you were" Doc responded. "If I had even imagined that something like this could happen, I never would have picked zero AD. But I did, and now we have to cope with the consequences."

"Doc?"

"Yes, right." The inventor took a deep breath. "If Chris is speculating the same thing I'm thinking about, he just referred to the possibility of stepping outside the space-time continuum." Calvin gasped, but didn't say anything, allowing the older man to continue. "As you know, the time machine, when seen from the outside, appears to disappear when leaving on a journey through time and reappear a moment later. It is thus obvious that it goes through a portal of some sorts, a portal that is outside of time itself – essentially, the vehicle leaves the space-time continuum in order to re-enter it at a different point. This method of time travel is not the only possibility, but it's pretty much essential to ensure that we end up at the right place – after all, the earth revolves around its own axis and around the sun. Only by actually stepping out of the continuum and reentering it can we pinpoint the exact place we need to be in. Of course, the DeLorean would need additional modifications if we actually wanted to travel to other places as well as times."

"Of course" Calvin repeated, dully. "So, how is this relevant to what we just went through?" He did have some idea, but his mind was still not entirely over the strange sensations it had experienced and he didn't want to say something completely idiotic.

"It is relevant because when we went to the year zero, we went to a non-existing year" Chris explained. "It appears that both of our theories held true – as I said, the car wasn't able to complete the transit as normal, and as Emmett said, the time circuits eventually must have pinpointed 1 B.C. as their target date. It's just that they took a lot longer to determine the re-entry place than they usually do, because of the more confusing information they were given, and thus we spent extended time outside of our space-time continuum."

Calvin believed he understood it. "So basically, we were in another dimension those few seconds?" he asked, still wondering whether those seconds had in fact been minutes or hours, or if such things even existed outside of the space-time continuum.

"Not entirely" Doc replied. "After all, if that were true, it would imply that, however briefly, every time travel journey would take us through another dimension – which, as I mentioned Sunday, wasn't something I built into the time machine. Also, alternate dimensions, as we saw when we were hopping through those I described and as Chris can testify, are simply alternate versions of our world. They don't have anything to do with the hell we just saw. Granted, I suppose that we visited only cluster dimensions and that fully different dimensions might be significantly more different, but even then I don't think we could presume to assume that…"

"Got it, Doc" Calvin cut him off. "So, if that wasn't an alternate dimension, then what was it?"

Doc and Chris exchanged glances. "Essentially, we don't know" the latter finally admitted. "We were outside of the space-time continuum – perhaps even outside of all space-time continuums. We might as well have been in Hell itself – Hell with a capital 'H'."

"That wouldn't surprise me" Calvin muttered.

"But essentially, it doesn't matter right now" Doc said, confidently. "What matters now is how you're feeling, Calvin, and if our journey through time did something to help your condition."

"I think so" Calvin said, cautiously. "I mean, it doesn't really feel like it did before, anymore – there was some cold uneasiness I've felt ever since I realized something was wrong with me, that is gone now. Of course, that might just be because I desperately want to believe everything is all right now…"

"Of course, the eternal question" Chris pondered. "But we can find a way to get an answer. Emmett, the Ripple Effect Indicator?"

"Right here, Chris" the other scientist replied, fetching the item before opening the gull-wing door. "We'd better do those tests outside – the interior of the DeLorean would be a little too cramped for my tastes. And it does appear that nobody is around."

As Calvin got out after his friend, he noticed that Doc was right. Where he would have expected at least some Indians, it appeared that the area which would one day contain Hill Valley was entirely desolate, filled with nothing but a few trees here and there. They were in the middle of a large field, stretching out so far that if the teen hadn't been able to see a few familiar mountains in the distance, he never would have guessed he was in Hill Valley.

"At least we won't have to worry about that aspect of our trip" Chris remarked, as he followed them out of the car. "Although after all this, it's more like one positive point in a sea of negatives."

"I have to agree with you on that" Calvin said. "All right, Doc – let's just get this over with already so we can get back home."

oooooooo

As much as Doc could insist that there weren't going to be any further mishaps and as much as Calvin kind of wanted to believe him, the trio hurried anyway. After setting up the equipment, Calvin was instructed to stand still as he was scanned with the Ripple Effect Indicator and a few other devices. It wasn't a very demanding job – they even took a few breaks in-between, in which Calvin was allowed to walk around (although he was to remain within sight of the vehicle) and explore prehistoric Hill Valley while his friends examined the data. The teenager looked around some of the trees and bushes, but soon found that although not what he was used to for his hometown, it was all not very different from what he had already seen at other locations in real life. It was amazing how boring the past could get. There wasn't much to see either – it appeared that no animals were near except for some smaller bugs and insects, and a few overflying birds. Doc's don't-disturb-anything rules also made the experience less interesting than it could have been, and by the time the experiments were finished, they were all ready to go home. Doc took one final test with the ripple effect indicator, and was pleased at what he saw.

"We have significantly retarded your erasure process" he told his friend. "It appears that the experiment worked. If our calculations are correct, your new erasure date won't be until some time in March."

Calvin frowned. "So I guess we aren't done yet."

"Certainly not" Chris replied. "After all, this was only a trial run of whether this process might work. But it does work, not exactly as we expected it to, but it does anyway. We'll go back home now, and do some tests with the time machine and with the data we now have before making another run… say, next week?"

"Why would it have to take so long?" Calvin asked. "Couldn't we just jump back and forth a few times now?"

"Theoretically, yes, perhaps" Doc agreed. "De facto, though… well, I wouldn't be so sure of that. We do want to make sure everything turns out just perfect – this mishap has shown us the value of preparation – and of course, I need to have another look at the time machine before I'll allow any of us to travel with it again, besides our return journey. We don't want to take the risk that the stay outside our space-time continuum has damaged the systems beyond repair."

Calvin gulped. "Do you think there's a risk we'll end up in that place again?" he asked, genuinely frightened for a moment.

Chris shrugged. "That's like asking whether there's a chance that anything goes wrong while time travelling, and the answer to that is always yes. There is always a chance, no matter how small, and there is a chance that this will happen again right away. It isn't big, though, and even if it does happen, our stay should be shorter than it was last time. After all, this time we'll be heading towards a definite point in time, rather than to the ill-defined time we went to last time."

Calvin nodded. "I think I got it."

"Good" Doc smiled. "Then let's get back to the future."

They patched their stuff into the car, and got squeezed in – Calvin again uncomfortably in the middle, between the two scientists. Doc then engaged the flying circuits, which fortunately still worked exactly as they should, and took the car high up into the sky before rattling off their Destination Time: December 23rd, 1985, 11:00 PM. They quickly accelerated through the resistance-less sky, and as they hit seventy, Doc turned towards his friends with a characteristic grin. "Brace yourselves for temporal displacement!"

As Calvin did so, and finally began to feel somewhat comforted at the familiar phrase, something strange happened just as they passed eighty, a strange bump that shook the time machine. The bewildered inhabitants exchanged glances. "Was that a bird?" Chris asked.

"Couldn't have been" Doc replied, momentarily hitting the brakes. "I certainly didn't see any coming up, and I was looking outside. Plus, if we were hit by a bird, it would have been harder than this."

"Perhaps it was something with the time machine" Calvin said. "Although… everything seems fine now."

"It certainly does" Doc agreed, taking the car up and down somewhat to show that it still obeyed his commands. "The flux capacitor is still fluxing, the time circuits are on, everything works. Anyway, I'd prefer to solve the issue in 1985 rather than here. If something happened, it doesn't appear to have impeded our capacity to travel through time, and if we stay here to see if something happened, we might alter history even more if somebody does show up."

"Small chance of that, Emmett" Chris pointed out. "But I get why you're nervous either way. All right, let's get this over with."

Calvin nodded, and Doc once more began to accelerate the time machine, which had fallen down to fifty, up to eighty-eight. They advanced in speed swiftly and this time passed the vital eighty miles per hour threshold without worries. Calvin sucked in a breath as they hit the crucial speed and light once more covered the windshield.

For a split second, the teen thought they were back where they had left off minutes ago, back in that strange timeless world. Then, the flashes ended and they burst back into the evening sky. Calvin looked at Doc and Chris before staring at the time circuits. The upper and middle readouts now both read December of 1985. All of them breathed a sigh of relief.

"We're back" Doc said, smiling. He turned the car around, glanced out of the window… and suddenly let go of the controls.

Calvin screeched as they once more started to plunge towards the ground, and in a moment of clarity both he and Chris reached out to take the wheel. It was a clumsy ordeal, but it didn't matter, because as they had in 1 B.C. they managed to salvage the situation. The DeLorean stabilized just above the ground, and Doc, who had by then come to his senses, managed to land it without much problems.

"Emmett!" Chris exclaimed, his voice betraying a mix of worry, anger and relief. "What got _into_ you! We could have crashed – again!"

The other inventor at first stared at the air in front of him, and then finally turned to his colleague, still appearing wide-eyed. "If we would have crashed, that would almost have been a relief" he whispered, rattled.

"What do you mean?" Chris demanded.

In response, Doc simply gestured towards the windows with his hand. "Look outside."

As Chris and Calvin did so, the latter had to agree with his mentor's sentiments. Where they should have been in one of the outer quarters of Hill Valley, what he saw was… emptiness. Lots and lots of sand, with many bushes and the occasional tree in-between them. It resembled the world they had just come from much more than the world they had intended to go to, so that was the first thought that popped into Calvin's mind. "Did that crazy non-universe place send us back to the time we came from?" he asked, bewildered.

Chris shook his head. "No – it's not quite that desolate around here" he replied. "Look outside. Those trees and bushes weren't present in the world of Hill Valley circa one B.C., and even if we had travelled a longer distance than I suspected… no, this is still Hill Valley. And if any of you needs proof for that, look ahead."

As Calvin strained to do so, he could, through the general darkness, make out something that looked like a house in the distance – a real house, and not a tipi or anything that would have been around had they still been in Indian times. "All right" he muttered. "So if we're not in those prehistoric times, then where are we?"

Doc, having recovered himself, gave the teen a half-smile that was intended to be comforting but missed the mark by leagues. "There are two possibilities" he listed. "One – we are still in the past, simply not as far back as we were before. It's quite a plausible theory, taking into account mechanical failure concerning whatever went wrong just before we hopped through time, as well as the general margin of error that could have been the result of that outer-universal ride. Two, however, is that we are in Hill Valley, but in the present – exactly at the date the time circuits indicate." He pointed at the readout, where 'DEC 23 1985 11:02 PM' was still being displayed, accompanied by the time circuits bleeping mechanically as if there was nothing wrong with the world. "In which case, we would have landed in an alternate reality, most likely as a result of what we did in the past."

Calvin paled at the thought for a few seconds, but he soon calmed down. "But if we were, that means we would simply have to go back and… well, make sure history isn't disrupted" he pointed out. "That shouldn't take too long."

"It shouldn't – if we knew what to do" Chris replied. "Considering how long ago the divergence occurred and at a period in time when no one would have been around, it would be virtually impossible to look up what disturbed history. We'd have to find it out for ourselves, perhaps by _watching_ ourselves, and that should be thoroughly planned – or at least, we would have to give some thought to what to do. We couldn't take too long for it, of course, considering the risk of erasure – although I suppose that would be less for all of us now, not just Calvin, considering we all went through dimensional hops and I'm not even from this dimension." He paused to take a breath, then continued. "Secondly, we don't know for sure that we are in an alternate reality. If it was simply mechanical error that landed us here, then making another journey through time would make things worse. There would be no way of telling where we'd end up."

At that point, Doc started to grin. "There wouldn't," he agreed, "but there is an easy way of telling where we are, and I can't believe I didn't think of it until now. Calvin, do you have any photographs of your family on you?"

Calvin blinked. "Uh, I don't know" he admitted. "I could check, though – perhaps there's one in my wallet. The ones I originally had, the ones which showed the old timeline, all disappeared, but I might have some new ones of my entire family. What do you want with them?"

"Simple" Doc said. "We'll just check to see if they are changed or show fading signs. After all, if we are in an alternate reality, the photographs would show… whatever was put on them in this timeline. And since Hill Valley clearly doesn't exist in the way we know it right now, I'd wager a guess that those photographs would change along with it."

"That might be so," Chris interrupted before Calvin could even reach for his pocket to fetch his wallet, "but if we were in an alternate reality _and_ in the past – combining both possibilities of temporal and mechanical error – it might be that the ripple effect wouldn't have caught up enough yet to display the changes, and we would presume that we were in our own timeline where that might not be the case."

"Point made," Doc agreed, "but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, let's take a look at the photographs."

Calvin nodded, and took out his wallet. As he opened it and quickly skimmed through, he soon noticed a familiar family portrait of his new family. It had been taken little over a month ago, at aunt Sally's birthday – the first the new 'lost' McFly kid had been able to attend. At some point, one of his aunts and uncles had suggested they'd pose for a picture together, and they had. His parents were both smiling brightly, Dave looked distracted, Linda was bored, and he and Marty both looked only half enthusiastic and kind of awkward, but he was still fond of the photograph. He took a good look at it and found that it looked as sharp as it had on the day it had been taken. "No problems here, Doc" he reported.

"All right" the inventor replied. "And none here either." He held up a picture of him and Marty that had been taken prior to that fateful October day – indeed, Calvin remembered that he had posed for it as well in the old timeline. Looking the other way, he saw Chris had drudged up several pictures of him and his family, including some of Susan and him from his honeymoon which Calvin hadn't seen yet. All in all, they gave the same message – everything was unchanged.

"All right" Chris agreed, opening the gull-wing door, "then we're probably in the past. Which means that the car is broken." He glared at the time circuits, which had by now shifted to displaying the present time as 11:06 PM and still seemed to be moving at a normal speed – but nevertheless continued to display that probably erroneous date of December 23rd 1985. "So, how about you stay here, Emmett, and try to at least get a start on seeing what's wrong, and you, Calvin, and I will walk over to that farm and ask what day it is?"

"Do you think I can't accomplish such an easy task without somebody to help me?" Calvin asked, partly mock-offended and partly serious.

Chris shrugged. "Well, I don't want to doubt your qualities, but you never know what might go wrong. For our first contact with this world, I would feel safer if there were two of us going, and well, it is Emmett's time machine, so he would be best equipped to stay behind and see what went wrong. But if you want to go alone, you can go."

Calvin shrugged in turn. "Nah, that's all right" he said. "I understand your worries, and I am a bit uncomfortable around here. Let's go then." He took off towards the farm, Chris following immediately after him. The teen tried to remain resolute rather than letting his mind wander off into places he'd prefer it didn't, places filled with doom scenarios. They were here to do a job and they would do it.

After about a five-minute-walk, they approached the house, which from closer inspection appeared to be a farm of some sorts, with gates around it. At this late hour, nobody was about, but Chris and Calvin soon found a wooden door within the gate allowing them entrance. Through the darkness, they walked towards what appeared to be the house's door, hoping that they weren't stepping on any of the farm's vegetables on the way.

"I'll do the talking" Chris said, softly. Calvin nodded.

The older man knocked on the door, first cautiously, and then louder. Only at the third try did the door open, and then Calvin had to reach forwards to hold onto it because his legs almost gave away beneath him.

He was staring at a woman who was wearing a dress that looked typically old-fashioned. The general feel of the house and the woman herself gave Calvin the idea that he was in a Western. However, one thing that burned itself into the teen's mind was her face. The woman looked almost _exactly_ like his mother. A younger version of her – roughly in-between the one he had encountered in 1955 and the one he knew in the new present – but his mother nonetheless. It was absolutely incredible.

The woman didn't have an exact similar reaction, although she did appear surprised. "Who are you?" she finally asked. "And what are you disturbing our peace for so late at night?"

Before Chris, who, though less inclined to react as averse to the sight than Calvin was, was still surprised, could say anything, a familiar voice could be heard from inside. "Come on, Maggie," a man said, walking up to the front door. "That's no way to greet visitors."

As Calvin looked up at the person who was apparently 'Maggie''s husband, he truly felt faint and just Chris' reflexes responding swiftly and catching him before he could fall stopped him from fainting. He nevertheless had to tear his face away from the scene for a moment to stabilize. This man looked… well, he didn't look exactly like him, given the moustache and the different clothing, but if you looked beyond that he was still a dead ringer for either himself or his twin. Calvin had to force himself to concentrate on the scene and on his mission in order to avoid fainting.

Chris gave him a sympathetic look, then, having apparently recovered himself, turned back to the people they were visiting. "Excuse me," he said, "sorry for disturbing you, but would you be so kind as to tell us what day it is? We've been travelling for quite a while and we lost our calendar."

Calvin didn't think it was a plausible story, and from the look on her face, neither did Maggie. Her husband, however, appeared to buy it, or at least didn't want to raise a fuss about it. "Today is Sunday" he replied, softly. "August 23rd."

"Meaning that if those were intended as Halloween clothes, you're about two months early" Maggie cut in.

Chris blushed. "We came from a festival down in Nevada" he replied, at this point clearly presuming at least the approximate time he was in if he could afford mentioning the name of a U.S. state. "Although I suppose we could reuse them for Halloween. Er…" He fudged somewhat. "What's the year?"

Maggie frowned deeper now. "1885, of course. Sure'n I'd think you should know that."

As her husband nodded, Calvin felt flabbergasted. The thought that they were in 1885… Hundred years before their own time, eighty-three years before he was even born… what did that mean for the prospects of Doc being able to repair the time machine? If he needed anything besides the stuff that was present in the DeLorean itself, they were probably doomed, because he didn't think the 1880s could offer anything that was fit for repairing a time machine.

At the same time, Chris nodded politely. "Of course" he replied, an essentially meaningless reply because if he had known the year he wouldn't have asked it. "Do you mind if we ask your name? You look quite similar to my friend here, mister…"

"McFly" Maggie's husband supplied. "Seamus McFly. And this here is me wife – Maggie."

Maggie nodded curtly, clearly disagreeing with the extent to which her husband was opening up to these strangers. "And if you'll excuse me, I should go and start preparing the bed for the night. Good evening, gentlemen."

"Good evening" Chris and Calvin both replied, as Seamus frowned at them. "I don't like to pry," he said, softly, "but what are your names, then? We're from Ireland, so I didn't reckon there were any relatives of mine around."

"Eastwood" Calvin blurted out, before softening his voice and adding: "Clint… Clint Eastwood."

Chris gave him a look, but finally decided to go for the same method of name-selection. "John Wayne" he said. "Both of us are from Nevada. My brother and I are travelling smiths, and this boy here is our protégée – our assistant. I don't think there's any relation to you, though. You said you were from Ireland?"

"Aye" Seamus confirmed. "We migrated a few years ago, me wife and I, along with me brother, Martin."

"Martin… McFly?" Calvin repeated, stunned.

"That's him" Seamus said. "I'm afraid he's no longer with us, though. You see, poor Martin always let people provoke him into fight. He was afraid people would think him a coward if he refused." He let out a deep sigh. "That's how he got a bowie knife shoved through his belly in a saloon in Virginia City. Never considered the future, poor Martin. God rest his soul."

"That's very sad, Mr. McFly" Chris replied, stunned yet somewhat uneasy around the McFly ancestor. Calvin felt he could echo those sentiments. The tale of Martin McFly bore a stunning resemblance to that of his counterpart from the new timeline, who had been afraid of people calling him a chicken and had nearly been killed by Biff Tannen over it. Hearing a story like this made him especially happy that it was now all in the past.

"Seamus?" a stern voice then sounded from inside. Calvin guessed that Maggie McFly didn't approve of her husband talking to all these strangers.

"Aye" Seamus replied, a lot shier now. He turned back to the visitors. "Perhaps we can talk some more later. I trust you have a way to get to Hill Valley, in order to get room and board?"

"We do" Chris confirmed, just as Calvin was wondering if they did. Of course, there was the DeLorean, but they could hardly fly the machine into a Western-era Hill Valley, could they? Just the thought would probably give Doc a heart attack.

"Good" Seamus then said. "The Palace Saloon might still be open by the time you get there – you'll be able to get rooms there for a low price. Well, anyway, maybe we'll speak to each other again sometime soon."

"Maybe we will" Chris agreed, a lot more resigned than Calvin would have liked. He gave the farmer a greeting nod, and after Seamus got back in and closed the door behind him, he started pacing back to the DeLorean, head down and hands in two of his pockets, but with a firm pace. Calvin could barely keep up with him.

"So, what does this mean?" he asked the inventor. "Is there a quick way out of here?" He didn't really think so, but one could always hope…

Unfortunately, Chris shook his head. "Don't count on it" he said, grimly. "If the time circuits are really broken, there might be a vital problem with the control microchip, or else with the other devices inside the circuitry. If there are minor shortages, those may be fixable, but if we actually need to replace things, we will need transistors. And they, unfortunately, will not be invented until 1947."

Calvin's eyes widened. "Isn't there anything you can do about that?" he insisted. "Come on, Chris! We can't just lean back and accept being stuck in the past!"

"Oh, certainly" the older man replied. "There are also vacuum tubes – basically the predecessor to the transistor. If we had them, we would be a long way towards solving the problem, although the circuitry would have to be expanded so much that we might need to assemble additional circuits on the outside of the car, possibly disrupting the time travel process. As you might be aware, circuitry has made great leaps in shrinking the past decades, and thus the older versions will be a lot bigger."

"I take it that's not the main problem, though" Calvin guessed, looking at the unchanging depressed look on Chris' face.

He was right. "It isn't" Chris admitted. "Even if we could get our hands on vacuum tubes, they will be incomplete. It would have been doable if we were still in, say, the 1920s or 1930s, but for the 1880s there are several essential electronics not available. And remember, this is a fairly fundamental glitch in the time circuits. It would have to have been, for it to strand us a hundred years away from home. No, if we would try to get a means for time travelling by contemporary technology, we would have to change so many things inherent to the way the time circuits and the car themselves work, that we would have to take months to do it. _Years_ , even, if there is no way to do it within or outside the DeLorean itself and we have to deconstruct the car and build a new time machine from the ground up."

Calvin realized he was right. That didn't make the message any better. He gulped, took a deep breath, took another one, stood still and stared at his friend. "So, what now?"

Chris also stood, sighed, and stared at him. "So basically, for all intents and purposes, we are stuck."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note: New chapter. Mike, Ann and Marty coming to the rescue! I hope you all like the insights into the characters of the various duplicates of our main heroes - Doc and Chris, regular Marty, Calvin and Mike, regular Jennifer, Ann and Claudia. Go check I'll Be Back In Time if you're confused, the names should be explained somewhere in the final chapters, I think the last one prior to the end. Anyway, like I said, this is where our heroes go off to rescue their friends. On Christmas Eve no less, because due to the chronology I made prior to ever conceiving this story I somehow accidentally made it so that the time period this tale would naturally take place in was around Christmas. Not that any of them are really in the mood right now. The light in the darkness hasn't come yet for Calvin, Chris and Doc - anything but, in fact - and until it will their friends won't be happy either.  
_

 _Oh, and please read and review!_

 **Chapter Five**

Monday, December 23, 1985  
11:00 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California

A century after Christopher Lloyd Brown had uttered those words, and a few minutes after they had left the Brown mansion in the DeLorean, the clock chimed eleven in the living room of that mansion. Mike was looking around, gazing occasionally at the television, which was turned on and currently displaying a fairly boring tennis match – he could care less about the victor, but could care even less about changing the channel to any of the other boring programs. Ann, however, was staring intensely at the clock, listening to every individual chime. After a while, Mike noticed her doing it, and as the last strike faded, he smiled.

"Just relax" he said. "You know they are rarely present at the exact time you'd expect them to. Remember the day this whole mess started?"

Ann turned towards him and frowned. "I certainly do – and your Dad was _early_ then" she pointed out. "He should be back now. There's no reason for them to…"

"No reason?" Mike repeated. He started ticking off the possibilities on his fingers. "They could have entered over another part of Hill Valley so that they still need to fly home. They could still be in the garage because Dad or Doc wanted to do another test before bringing Calvin up here. They could have forgotten about the exact time they wanted to be here. They could have accidentally put in the wrong date. They could have…"

"I get the idea" Ann interrupted him. She sighed. "I suppose I am worrying without a cause. There are various rational explanations, and yet…" She shrugged. "I just hate the idea of something happening to Calvin."

"Big surprise there" Mike muttered, under his breath.

Ann turned towards him. "What?" she asked, sharply.

"Nothing" Mike replied, smiling innocently. When she continued to stare at him, he broke out into a laugh. "Oh, lighten up, will you? I've heard Claudia and Jennifer talk about it too, even when you were around, and it's hardly that big a deal."

"Even so" Ann replied indignantly. "What goes on between Calvin and me is our business. You don't have to comment on or approve of it."

Mike's expression softened. "I know" he admitted. "I suppose I just couldn't resist. You know neither Marty nor I really mean to offend you, Ann – neither you nor Calvin. If you want to date him and he agrees, you can go right ahead for all I care. If you don't, that's fine with me too. And if you don't want to make a decision just yet…" He shrugged. "It's all up to you."

"Thank you very much, then" Ann replied, on a tone of voice that made Mike doubt whether she was sarcastic or serious until the moment she started grinning. "I'll think about that. As for the outcome to that thought, you'll just have to wait and see."

"I will" Mike promised, and turned back to the tennis match.

Thus, another few minutes passed, and as the time went on Ann became more restless again, training her eyes to the clock. Mike had to admit that he was beginning to get a bit concerned as well. However, the awkward silence remained until Ann finally looked up from the clock and stared at him.

"It's 11:15 PM" she muttered, softly.

"I know" Mike replied. He sighed. "I don't know what could have happened. It's still possible that it's all innocent, but I think we should call my Mom, just in case. Presuming that she hasn't gone to bed yet."

"I'm not sure whether to hope for that" Ann replied, walking over to the telephone. "If she hasn't, we can contact her, tell her what's wrong, and ask for advice… if she has, though, it might indicate that little is wrong, if _she_ doesn't think there's anything out of the ordinary going on around here."

"I see" Mike simply said. He remained quiet from then on, as Ann picked up the horn and dialed the number of the other Brown family – _his_ family. For a moment, everything remained quiet on the other end of the line, and then Mike noticed Ann was responding to his mother. With the television still humming in the background he didn't pick up much and didn't bother to listen intensively, as he'd be told the news soon anyway. That turned out to be true, as Ann hung up and immediately turned to him.

"Your Mom is coming over" she replied. "She didn't like the sound of what is going on here either." Ann shrugged, bewildered. "What might have happened? What _could_ have happened?"

"We could go check" Mike suggested. "Eventually, of course, and only if it takes much longer for them to show up… but we do have a second time machine back home."

"That's true" Ann mused. "But doesn't your Dad have the passwords and everything?"

"He does, but knowing him, he also has an emergency password laying around just in case something like this happens, and I would bet Mom knows where to find it" Mike replied. "If we need to, we could gain access to the time machine."

Ann nodded, understanding. After a brief pause, she replied: "Do you think we should call the McFlys?"

Mike tensed – he wasn't eager to face the possibility of talking with the McFlys over something like this. George and Lorraine McFly were weary of time travel, and the news that their son had gone missing on an expedition like this might upset them. "Perhaps" he allowed. "Maybe later. Let's wait until Mom gets here before we do anything else."

As Ann nodded, they could suddenly hear the sound of the doorbell ringing. The two teens exchanged glances. "That was quick," Mike remarked, standing up and walking over to the door. Ann followed him closely.

"Could it be her, so fast?" she asked. "It's been only a minute or two…"

Mike shrugged. "I agree that it's very quick, but maybe she was already prepared to leave when you called. Or else she managed to figure out the time machine and did something similar to what they did when they returned from their honeymoon. Perhaps she even went back to before Doc, Dad and Calvin left to check what might have gone wrong, and then she just waited for us. And in any case, who else could it be this late?" He shrugged again before confidently heading for the door and opening it.

However, where he would have expected his mother, Mike was stunned to suddenly see a man he didn't know appear on his doorstep. The man was wearing a black, drenched coat and holding a similarly black suitcase. His expression was grim and nearly malicious. "Mr. Brown?" he asked.

"Uh…" Mike replied, unsure of what to say.

"Are you Michael Brown?" the man repeated.

"That would be me, yeah" Mike muttered. "What is this about?"

"I've got something for you" the man snarled. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out… an envelope. "A letter" he added, now appearing to sound a lot friendlier than before.

"A letter for me?" Mike asked, confused. He wondered who could be sending him a letter – it wasn't his birthday after all, or any other special day – and what possessed the man – apparently a mailman – to come over this late at night to bring it.

"That's right" the mailman confirmed. "We're from Western Union, and the story behind this letter is quite an interesting one. You see, it was first delivered to our office hundred years ago."

"A hundred years ago?" Mike echoed. "You mean you kept this letter for a full century… and it was addressed to me?"

"To a Michael Brown who would be at this address, yes" the Western Union man replied. "As you might understand, this story baffled us as much as it does you. We were actually hoping you would be able to tell us more, but…" He shrugged, taking out a form and holding it for Mike with a pencil. "Sign on line 6, please. Here you go."

After Mike did so, the Western Union man handed the letter in question to him – an old, yellowed envelope which as he opened it turned out to have several pieces of paper inside. Mike emptied the envelope in his hand and sorted through the papers to find the addressor's name. He soon found it on the bottom of the last page – _Emmett and Christopher Brown, September 1st 1885_. "It's from Doc and Dad!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Ann and the Western Union man responded at the same time.

"A distant relative" Mike fibbed. "It's about… an inheritance. Come on, Ann, we need to read this." He headed back into the house, Ann following after she shut the door in front of the confused face of the delivery man. She walked up to him, clearly excited. "What does it say?"

"I'm not sure…" Mike began. "Aha. This appears to be the first page. Here you go." He took a deep breath and began reading. "'Dear Michael and Ann, if our calculations are correct, you should receive this letter no more than twenty minutes after we headed back in time.' That's them all right. 'First, let us assure you that we're alive, and relatively well. We, however, have ended up being trapped in the year 1885. You see, when heading back to the prehistoric era, we decided to aim for the year 0 rather than the year 1, and due to that ended up spending time outside the space-time continuum (We'll explain later). Due to this, the time circuits were permanently distorted, and a run-in with something when we were about to leave the distant past didn't do it any good either. We – Emmett, Calvin and I – thus ended up being stranded in the year 1885, with malfunctioning time circuits and thus with no way to get home.'"

"That would explain some things" Ann muttered. "What do they want us to do?"

Mike glared at her. "Patience, please, I was getting to that" he replied. "'After concluding all of this for certain a few days after we arrived, which was on the twenty-third of last month, we came at the decision to write you a letter so that you would know when to find us. Therefore, we would like to ask you to take the functioning time machine and come back here to rescue Calvin and us. We don't really mind being here, as we have been able to take over an empty blacksmith shop and the locals are quite friendly, but Calvin has come down with a terrible case of homesickness which causes him to spend most time mulling over it (and the fact that his existence still isn't sorted out can't help matters either), we have gained the ire of a local Tannen, and in general it just isn't safe to be spending so much time outside of one's home time period. Thus we decided that it would be for the better if you were to take the other time vehicle and come here to get us. Please take my toolbox along as well – you know where you can find it, Mike – because as we just told you the time circuits are broken and cannot be repaired with contemporary electronics, and without that, we will not be able to get that DeLorean back to 1985. Those are our wishes. Please follow them to the letter. Christopher Brown, September 1st, 1885.'"

"Wow" Ann muttered. "So, we have to go back to 1885 to rescue them?"

Mike looked up at her and frowned. "'We'?" he repeated. You don't have to come along, Ann. I'm sure this won't take too long, and we'll be back before you know it."

"That's the same thing Doc and Chris thought last time, and look how that turned out" Ann pointed out. "I missed out on going back along with them half an hour ago, and I don't want to miss that same opportunity again. And I haven't been on a time travel trip for some time, anyway."

"Neither have I, though" Mike pointed out. "Mom and Dad and Doc have done the most trips of our family – Claudia and I mostly stayed where and when we were. Also, we'll need some preparation for this. It's likely we won't be able to leave until tomorrow afternoon – in fact, that would be recommendable, as you saw how much could go wrong even when Doc and Chris tried to prepare for every possibility they could think of."

Ann shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right" she muttered. "But I'm still coming along, like it or not."

"Coming along to where?" a familiar voice asked. Mike turned around to see his adoptive mother enter the room, having apparently entered through the back door. "Have you got news about Chris?"

Mike sighed. "Yeah, we have, Mom" he replied, motioning for her to sit down. "Unfortunately, though, it's a rather long story."

oooooooo

After Susan Clayton Brown had been informed about the circumstances of her husband going missing and where exactly he was now, she agreed with Mike that the journey back in time to fetch them should be thoroughly prepared. She also brought up a matter the teens hadn't considered yet – checking out the library. "If you get stuck back there for a few days while fixing the time machine, it might be better if you knew what awaits them – and you – in those days. Provided precise enough records can be found, of course."

First, though, the McFly family would have to be informed, and that unpleasant task befell on Ann as alleged 'twin sister' of Jennifer, who was after all Marty McFly's girlfriend. Although she did contemplate going over and telling them in person, the fact that it was rather late and that she hated the thought of confronting George and Lorraine made her decide to use the phone instead. As expected, Calvin's parents did not take the news very well anyway, and as Marty took the phone from his mother Ann thought she heard her mutter about 'never should have let him go with them'. Marty, as it was, immediately resolved to come over no matter what, even though he knew he couldn't do anything at the moment.

They sat in the Brown living room for an hour or two, brainstorming what might have happened, but eventually they resolved that between the four of them, there was little that could be done anyway and they all went home and to bed, with the exception of Mike, who ended up staying up for a while longer doing some routine checks of the other DeLorean, to ensure that it, at least, was functioning properly. Ann insisted on staying at Chris and Susan's house through the night, and after hearing the news, her parents had consented to that. Nevertheless, she hardly slept, thinking only of their lost friend(s).

The next morning, Mike did some more theoretical work, examining the time circuits and determining which replacement parts could be needed. They didn't get around to checking the library until the afternoon, though, for the simple reason that it wasn't open until that time. Mike and Ann both volunteered to go, and after Mike and Claudia exchanging one of those knowing glances which understandably annoyed Ann, they were off.

And that was where they were now, checking out old records. The 1880s records were in the basement of the library, and thus only through a long convincing talk with a local guard were they able to get there, and the guard seemed to remain suspicious no matter what, watching what they were doing from a distance. Ann figured she could understand he didn't want to have anybody damage the archive, but this made the search quite a bit harder.

Fortunately, Hill Valley Library still had a lot of pre-WWII source material in its stacks, and it didn't take long before Ann found a very familiar face. "Hey Mike, look at this" she called out. "William McFly and family. Are they…"

"Yup" Mike agreed, taking a good look at the picture. "That's my great-grandfather – well, my _biological_ great-grandfather, I suppose – William McFly. Good-looking guy."

Ann grinned. "Can't disagree with you on that" she replied. "Who are the others in the picture?"

Mike took a closer look. "The woman next to him is great-grandma Helen – I think she died rather young, but I'm not sure when. Before my biological father was born, in any case. She's carrying a baby which must be Grandpa Arthur. The man on the right must be great-granduncle Sean, great-grandpa William's younger brother. He moved away when he was young, so I don't know much about him. Up front are I think William's parents considering the resemblance, but I don't know their names. The girl on the left must be Grandpa Arthur's sister Elizabeth, and the boy on the right… I'm not sure, but I think he's Grandpa Arthur's older brother who died in an accident when he was young. Henry McFly, I believe."

Ann nodded, then took a closer look. "Doesn't that woman William McFly married – Helen – look a lot like your Mom?" she asked. "I mean, not your Mom, Marty and Calvin's Mom… you know what I mean."

"I understand" Mike assured her. "Yeah, she does. It is probably a coincidence, though. I've seen some other pictures of William's _mother_ , and on those _she_ looks almost exactly like… Lorraine. It's really strange." He shook his head. "I can't believe they've got this picture in the library. I wonder if we can get a copy."

"First things first, Mike" Ann reminded him. "We're here to find information about…" she shot an uncertain look at the guard, who continued to maintain his distance, "…Calvin."

"And Doc and Dad" Mike reminded her in turn. "But yeah, we should focus on our mission. Call me when you've got something, I'll do the same." With that, he moved back to the other side and went back to work.

It took a while before they found something useful again, even though they looked as careful as they could. For a moment, Ann was about to cry out in despair that there wasn't any record of their friends – which, she supposed, was for the best, but was also a nuisance right now. Then, Mike let out a cheerful yell.

Ann instantly dropped the book she was holding and ran over to her friend. "What did you find?" she asked, eagerly.

In return, Mike grinned at her and showed her a photograph. Ann had to squint for a moment because of the fact that the picture was black-and-white, but as she looked again she clearly recognized Doc, Chris and Calvin, standing in front of what strangely enough appeared to be the clock they knew from the clock tower, the one which had been struck by lightning on November 12th 1955 and thus had provided a means of getting home to both Marty _and_ Calvin. This peculiarity was explained by the caption underneath the photograph: 'The New Clock, September 5th 1885'.

"That's them all right" she whispered. "But how does seeing their faces in a photograph that was taken four days after they wrote the letter help us?"

"It doesn't" Mike admitted. "But it's a start, at least – and we should probably take it with us anyway." When Ann gave him a puzzled look, he explained: "This picture really shouldn't be in the library. People could come across it and ask questions about why there were people who looked like Dad and Doc, _and_ a guy who looked like us, around hundred years ago. What with the fact that Dad and Doc still look so much alike, and with our new names…"

"I got the point" Ann cut him off. "But that could take hours. This library is big, and if we want to take everything that even hints towards the fact that any of us were ever there, we'd have to look through the whole place. Besides, there might be other places where documents about our families are stored – libraries in other towns, perhaps, the Courthouse, perhaps even the school if Cal went there… "

Mike shook his head. "Doc wouldn't let him, even if he wanted to. Too much danger to history, not just through these means but through others as well. And besides, we'll probably be able to pick them up before they could spend a long time in the past, so there won't be as much left over in the _new_ timeline… the one after we go back, I mean."

"Even so, we still found this picture, and it was from only a short while after they landed here" Ann pointed out. "And even if we just had a quick look around to take any details about them pertaining to the period immediately after they got stuck… what makes you think we can get away with it? Literally, I mean? If that guy raised a fuss about us getting in here in the first place, taking library property along will _really_ make him go nuts."

Mike shrugged. "We could just borrow it and then pretend to forget about ever returning it" he replied. "This _is_ a library, after all. We'd have to pay a fairly large late fee plus the costs for the pictures themselves, but I would think that's manageable."

"This may be a library, but that doesn't mean we can just take whatever we want out of the archive" Ann said. "These things aren't meant for borrowing, Mike – they're just here to be stored. If we would have been allowed to borrow these pictures, they would have been upstairs. I would think that you're only allowed to take such stuff along if you have a valid reason for it and give guarantees that you'll bring it back shortly."

Mike cursed under his breath. "Well, I suppose smuggling it out is the only option then" he replied. "We really can't leave things like this behind." He glanced at the guard, who was fortunately just staring the other way, and with a smooth maneuver he stuck the picture in the inside of his jacket. _Now_ they were happy that it was winter and they had to wear several layers of clothing. It made disguising stuff easier.

They continued to rummage through the archives for a while after that, neither of them saying much. The guard remained in position, occasionally yawning, although Ann wasn't sure if he was genuinely tired or just trying to convey the message that it was getting late and they should really just get out of here by now. Either way, they didn't react and continued their search. Nevertheless, they just found very minor references – a mention of their moving into the blacksmith shop, a notice about Doc picking up the new school teacher, their names being mentioned in an incident at the Hill Valley Festival, and an article from 1894 about a Hill Valley citizen named Clint (which they had figured out was apparently Calvin's alias) graduating from a Sacramento college, which threw the time travelers for a loop until they figured out based on the age and job orientation mentioned that this was just another man also named Clint. All of these were minor mentions and hardly worth taking the paper for or even just cutting out the notice (not that they had brought a pair of scissors along). Shortly after that, though, they found it.

Ann was just lazily flipping through the articles, not really searching for anything due to being bored, when she came across a paper with the headline of September 8th 1885. She did realize right away that it was one they could use, being printed shortly after their friends had arrived, but hadn't really expected to find anything. Even the headline – Buford Tannen Captured After Murder Of Three – elicited no realization except that this Tannen might very well be the Tannen Doc and Chris had told them in the letter they'd gotten tangled up with, which created a morbid curiosity for the article. Nevertheless, she was reading it with only minor interest until she came across some very familiar names – and then she could barely breathe.

After a few seconds of Ann being horrified, Mike noticed her and looked up. "Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

Ann tried to breathe as well as she could, but limited herself to pointing at the article regardless. "Look" she finally said, her voice no more than a whisper.

Mike frowned and walked over, taking the paper from her and reading it aloud for Ann's benefit. His voice grew more upset as he spoke and Ann realized his heart was beating louder.

Hill Valley Telegraph – Tuesday, September 8th 1885

 _BUFORD TANNEN CAPTURED AFTER MURDER OF THREE_

 _Buford Tannen, a local outlaw whom has troubled this town several times before and terrorized many of its citizens, struck once more early yesterday morning when he raided the blacksmith shop opposite the Courthouse. Reports of neighbors say that the inhabitants tried to flee but could not escape the gang nor hide long enough for the authorities to show up. Tannen fled with his men when Marshall Strickland showed up, but he ordered an immediate chase. He eventually managed to capture the gang near Shonash Ravine, thus ridding Hill Valley of a long plague as for this and for the robbery of the Pine City Stage, which occurred two days ago, he will likely be imprisoned or hung. Unfortunately, nothing more could be done for his victims by this point. Mr. John Wayne, 50, and Mr. Emmett Wayne, also 50, his brother, had been killed instantly, and Mr. Clint Eastwood, 18, their nephew, passed away later yesterday afternoon while still under medical care._

Mike stopped reading the article, which went on for a lot longer, and looked up at Ann with a pale face. "Well, looks like we know what happened to them."

"They died" Ann whispered. "I can't believe it. I mean, we knew that they would be dead, but… so soon…"

Mike put an arm around her shoulder and pressed her close, something which she didn't protest against. "It's not going to happen" he replied, softly. "You know we won't let it happen. We're going back to 1885, and we're going to take them home."

oooooooo

When they returned from the library, however, it turned out that accomplishing their objective wouldn't be as easy as just hopping into the DeLorean and departing for the Old West. Calvin's family was gathered at the Lloyd Brown home when they got there, and at first Mike, knowing it would all be prevented anyway, had tried to get them out of there without telling the story. He and Ann had nevertheless cracked soon enough, and he eventually recognized that they needed to be told. Needless to say, George, Lorraine and Susan were horrified at the news of the deaths of their respective son and husband, and Marty didn't take the news of his friends' deaths easy either. Mike immediately comforted them, reassuring them that everything was going to be all right once they went back in time and got them home. Then, a question pierced the air.

"But can you do that, Mike?" The addressed turned around to see it was his mother, whose face was still slightly paler than usual and had tears and wet spots on it. "Can you promise us that you are going to get back and take Chris and Emmett without messing up the universe and creating a time paradox?"

Mike blinked, suddenly uncomfortable. Now there was a matter that he hadn't thought of yet. His mother continued. "Even if everything turns out fine in 1885 and you can return home without a single glitch – which I doubt, considering our track record with luck and the fact that the other DeLorean is still broken – won't saving our dear relatives remove the catalyst for you doing so, thus preventing it from happening, so they… die, again, and you go back again… _ad infinitum_?"

The seventeen-year-old sat down, pondering that question for a moment and feeling the enormous pressure that was on him. Everybody was looking at him. With his Dad and Doc gone – though hopefully not permanently – he had the most scientific knowledge, and he was the one who would have to handle the technical and theoretical planning of this mission. And not just that, but he was also the one who would have to decide on giving people hope their beloveds would live, or the news that nothing could be done. He was the only one who knew enough to be able to determine that.

He thus took a while just sitting there, thinking hard, before finally taking a deep breath and slowly yet resolutely shaking his head. "I don't think so" he replied, softly. "Even if in the new timeline we wouldn't find that information on their death, a lot would still have gone the same. We'd still have received that letter from them, and thus still planned in the same way to get them out. We would still have gone to the library, and even if we hadn't found this particular clipping, we still would have gone home with the intent of returning to 1885 – heck, perhaps we would have found evidence about _ourselves_ there, from our upcoming journey, and knew that something was up that way. And even if things don't go entirely according to plan and follow the original, so what? I'm sure that when Doc had to recreate that scene on the mall for you, Marty, things didn't go _exactly_ the same either."

"No, they didn't" Marty admitted. "But I still left at the same time, partly because Doc knew from '55 what my Last Time Departed had been. Wouldn't that have potential to turn out awkward too, if the new Last Time Departed and the one in our timeline didn't match up?"

Mike shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not. I guess we should just leave at a whole hour, perhaps at 10 or 11 PM – that's the most obvious time to leave and thus would be most likely to occur again. And besides that, I don't think there's anything we can do. You can try to shape your destiny as hard as you can, but some point, you've got to admit that you can't control every tiny detail, and have to rely on help from above to get the exact parallels into place."

"That's very thoughtful, Mike" George commented. "Or did you get that from that one Huey Lewis song?" Mike smiled sheepishly. "I thought as much, but you're probably right anyway. So," he added, clearly tired of talking about his own son's unfortunate demise, "what else are you going to do before you leave?"

Mike checked the clock, which marked the time as 8:12 PM. "Well, we still need to store everything in the car, and perhaps do a final diagnostic test. Checking if we've got everything we need probably wouldn't hurt either, nor would having some sleep before we go. I know I'm tired after everything, and we probably won't get to relax in 1885 either."

"How long do you think you're going to stay in 1885?" Lorraine wondered.

"Probably at least a day" Mike admitted. "Even if we could fix the time circuits of the other DeLorean in a few hours, we would probably still need to run a few checks with both of them. There's no way Dad or Doc would want to be reckless after what they experienced, and I'm inclined to agree with them. If we're going in for the day after the letter was written, September second, then we still need the whole day to repair the car and so on, and perhaps they have taken up some responsibilities of their own – they do own a blacksmith shop. I wouldn't risk going back to the future until the next morning, when we would have had some sleep, and even then I'd prefer to stay the remainder of the day and not go back until the evening. But I admit that part of that is just me being curious about the Old West… Dad might have a different view."

Marty rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you like the West. I guess I wouldn't mind having a very brief look around, but there's no music, no indoor plumbing, and unless you want to get kidnapped or shot by somebody," he shivered, remembering the fate that had occurred to their friends in this timeline, "there's not much to do either."

Mike smiled. "Well, I suppose that growing up in a time period that undisputedly sucked, I have a more positive view of the past than you do. Grass is greener on the other side and all. But you're saying you won't come along, then?"

Marty shook his head. "Nah, I'm coming. If Cal and Doc are in trouble, I want to help them, no matter how little I might be able to do."

Lorraine gave her son a wary smile. "Just keep yourself safe, Marty. And get Calvin home safely, too." She shuddered. "In a way, it is scary that we may not remember this conversation after you've gone back."

"There's no way to stop it" Ann answered. "Unless you all want to come along, but I doubt there's enough room in the DeLorean for that."

"It'll be hard to squeeze in just three people and their belongings" Mike agreed. "I love the DeLorean, but when we get home, I should mention to Dad that he either gets another car to build the time machine into or modifies the existing one to fit more passengers."

"I doubt you'll get him to agree with you on that, Mikey" his mother said, managing a chuckle. "The way Chris treats the DeLorean, I sometimes get the impression he sees it more as a third child rather than as a car and a time machine. Of course, considering that it was our ticket out of Hell Valley, I can hardly blame him."

Mike nodded. "Anyway" he replied, softly. "I located Dad's toolbox and everything he usually puts in it, so I think that should be all right. Mom should have the emergency password." Susan nodded. "Then it's time to start preparing. But first…" Mike looked around the room. "First I think we should go get something to eat and drink. This is probably going to be a long night."

oooooooo

It was, and in the end, it turned out that they couldn't make it at 10 PM. Some important issues to address were the matter of period clothing, which Claudia had fetched for them (for as far as there weren't enough clothes already around in what they dubbed the 'time travel emergency closet') and even spare sets for their trapped friends. Mike didn't really believe it would be necessary, as they wouldn't be there all too long, but he clearly knew better than to argue about that. After all, as the previous events had once more proved, it was better to have too many precautions in place than too few.

The DeLorean, with the addition of the toolbox and of course the newspaper and photograph which Ann and Mike had retrieved from the archive, was also soon set up for time travelling. In a last minute addition, Marty suggested that they would take the hoverboard along, a toy he had obtained from 2015 and which was stored near the time machine. At first, it hadn't seemed necessary, but then Mike suggested that perhaps there was advanced technology in the board that could also help their friends out – and of course, there was the thought of needing to be prepared for everything. Of course, it meant taking up more valuable sitting space, given that due to Chris' habits, the entire back of the car (which in DeLoreans wasn't that big) had been stowed full with things that might come in handy, such as a sleep inducer, a monetary emergency suitcase, a random and rather long rope, a baseball bat (for whacking thieves wanting to steal the time machine on the head) and a small device from the future which was apparently a 'cell phone'. Few of it could come in handy, but the past journey had once more proven that there was never such a thing as too much preparation.

After that, they pondered the issue of what else could possibly be needed some more, and it was 10:50 when, after an emotional departure from their parents (Ann's parents had stayed at home, probably hoping this would be over as soon as possible, although she did give them a final phone call before they left) Susan unlocked the DeLorean by using the thumbpad for a final time, once more going through the complex series of requirements installed by her husband, and let them in before heading back upstairs. Mike took position in the driver's seat, while Ann and Marty were squeezed in in the passenger's seat.

"Comfy?" Mike asked, grinning.

"Not really" Marty admitted, his voice croaking somewhat. "But I'll manage. As long as you don't plan to keep flying for hours, I think we should be fine."

"I'll try to get this over with as soon as possible" Mike promised. "I just need to use the password first." He took out a piece of paper and put it near the previous spot of the time circuit control switch. Marty tried to have a look, but was baffled to see that it wasn't, as expected, a short code of familiar references like 'JulesVerne', '20.000Leagues', or even a numerical code with the dates of their adventures. Instead, it was a complex code of at least twenty letters and numbers, and there appeared to be no familiar combination in it at all. The teen stared uncertainly at it, wondering if this could be right. Then again, Chris Brown certainly did have a complicated computer system. The time circuits, left relatively intact in Doc's DeLorean, had been replaced by a sleek, flat computer screen (although the originals were still kept in storage somewhere because Chris couldn't bear the thought of throwing them away) and there seemed to be other modules around that weren't there before. It all looked very eerie, and made the thought of such a strange password seem more likely.

As Marty was still pondering that, though, Mike took a deep breath and pressed his thumb to the aforementioned computer screen. Almost immediately, all lights in the car went red and started flashing menacingly. The time circuits also lit up red, and alarms went off throughout the car. Ann shrieked, and Marty gasped. "What's happening?!" he shouted.

"This is normal!" Mike shouted back. He stared at the computer. "Recognize Emergency. Activate Emergency Control Override."

Marty thought he looked fairly silly talking to a computer like that, but to his surprise the noise and flashes stopped and the red screen was replaced by a black one, with in the middle the line 'Password Requested' in white. On the right side was a bar considering of roughly thirty green squares on top of each other, much like a depiction of a battery running out of juice, and indeed the squares started changing from green to black, one every second, and Marty could guess things weren't going to turn out fine if they allowed them to reach the thirtieth.

He was about to tell Mike to say the password but the other teen was already ahead of him, loudly and clearly speaking every letter and number. The sweat on his face indicated that he was very nervous about possibly mispronouncing one of them. In the end, as there were only ten squares left, he finished.

And the squares kept changing.

Mike's eyes went wide and Marty could see he was beginning to panic. He looked down at the note, wondering whether or not he should try again, then shook his head. "Um, finish" he called out. "End. Over. The End. Done."

That last word clearly did the trick, as three squares away from the end, the computer screen was suddenly replaced… by the normal-looking time circuits. Mike breathed a sigh of relief.

"Didn't your Mom tell you about that?" Ann asked, also clearly having been scared.

Mike shook his head. "She probably forgot" he whispered. "No wonder, as we're all pretty stressed out right now… but I _really_ wish she had remembered." Regaining his composure, he turned back to the computer, gripping the steering wheel. "Flying circuits on" he ordered, waiting as the car was taken up into the air. "Roof open." The roof opened, and Mike carefully gunned the DeLorean upwards, flying shakily but managing it. They safely managed to get out into the sky, the roof closing once more behind them.

"Remind me again why we agreed that you would do this rather than your Mom?" Ann asked, deadpan.

"Because Mom knows just as much about flying a car as I do, and less about time travel mechanics" Mike answered, apparently calm again. He slowly accelerated the DeLorean, flying through the night sky. As Marty looked at the Present Time, he saw it was 10:58. Just then, the clock turned to 10:59.

"All right, where to?" he asked. "Or rather, _when_ to?"

"The day after Dad and Doc wrote that letter" Mike answered. "Probably early in the day… how does six A.M. sound to you?"

"I guess that would be okay" Ann replied. Marty nodded.

"All right. Destination Time: September 2, 1885, 6:00 AM." Mike watched as the computer filled in the date. "Okay, now all we have to do is wait a minute."

Ann frowned. "We're just going to hang out here and wait?"

"That's what we agreed upon" Mike replied. "You can look outside if you want, get a unique view of Hill Valley at night." Marty chuckled a bit at that, being well aware that of course Ann, being pressed in between them, could hardly do that. He could, though, and did, admiring the view for a while. Mike occasionally shot glances outside too, but kept an eye on the clock.

Although time passing did appear to take longer when you waited, in this time the waiting period wasn't too long to begin with and before they knew it the present time clicked to 11 PM. "All right, it's time" Mike unnecessarily said. "Brace yourselves."

Marty and Ann nodded, the former resisting the urge to quip about how they could do little else stuck next to each other here. He nevertheless gripped the door handle tighter as Mike accelerated the time machine past sixty. He did trust his counterpart and friend, but the whole adventure was making him nervous. Eventually, Marty just decided to stop thinking about it. As the speedometer – one part of the car that had fortunately stayed the same – went past eighty without anomalies, he closed his eyes. Just a few seconds later, the sonic boom sounded, and they broke the time barrier.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF.**

 _Author's Note: The first chapter of Mike, Marty and Ann's adventures in Hill Valley. Not much happens here yet, but we kind of get into closer alignment with the movie considering this takes place on September 2nd 1885. Did you guys know the days of this week (it's currently Sunday September 6th 2015) fall on the exact same dates as the days in BTTF III? September 2nd was a Wednesday, September 3rd a Thursday et cetera. Anyway, hope you all enjoy and review. I have been having trouble with my email, though, so I might not always reply to your review, but I think you should all know they are read and appreciated anyway.  
_

 **Chapter Six**

Wednesday, September 2, 1885  
06:00 AM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

When they arrived over 19th Century Hill Valley, Mike could immediately see that _they_ at least hadn't gotten a flawed time machine. Although it was still early in the day, the sun had already risen, probably around half an hour ago, and they had a clear view of their hometown in its sleepy western incarnation. For what it was worth, _this_ DeLorean worked. They were in the Old West.

On the other side of the car, Marty was also peering out of the window, staring at the wooden houses they could see below. Mike really hoped that there wasn't anybody around yet to see them, although he knew that in this era, people tended to get up early. He turned to Marty, who gave him a broad grin. "Where are we going to land?" the other teen asked.

"Yeah, where are we going to land?" Ann agreed, somewhat sulky. "At least then I'll be able to see for myself what's going on out there – and I'll be able to stretch my legs. It's really cramped in here."

Marty smiled at her. "You know, I once heard that a girl who is sitting between two boys is allowed to make a wish. I believe that's what they said… but it could be the other way around."

Ann frowned. "If that's true, my wish would be to get out as soon as possible."

"I'll grant your wish as soon as I can" Mike said. "I'm just unsure where to take the car down. Parking it in the middle of the city probably wouldn't be a smart idea, even if we were just going to pick up Doc, Chris and Calvin and then leave – which we aren't – so we probably would have to park it outside of the town. But I wouldn't know where to leave it so that other people won't encounter it… or animals."

"That is an important issue" Marty agreed. "You mean to say that you hadn't thought of that yet?" He smiled. "I thought you had this all planned out."

Mike glared at him. "This was just a minor detail" he muttered. "I suppose it was an oversight, but we can find a place to land soon enough. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."

Marty nodded, and Mike steered the DeLorean away from the city center, soon exiting Hill Valley which was, as he had expected, quite small in the 'present day'. Still, as they flew northwards in circling maneuvers, they had to go on and on as neither of them could spot a nice sheltered place to land. Mike was reminded of the search for a parking spot which came up whenever they went to a big city, like Sacramento, and how that tended to remove you from the center as well so that you would have to walk back a long way. He really hoped that wouldn't be the case now.

Nevertheless, for a while it looked like they weren't going to find anything. The few roads out of Hill Valley were plain and sandy, and the area in-between was deserted as well. There was the occasional tree or bush, but nothing major, and Mike feared that they would have to head up into the mountains to find an inconspicuous place, or return home and get a map of the area to track down a cave or something like that. Now there was a thought that depressed him. For what it was worth, the sun rising slowly on the horizon was visible to all, and all three occasionally diverted from their search to look at it, the time machine giving them a perfect view.

It might have taken up to ten or fifteen minutes before Marty shouted: "Hey!" Mike, who was startled by his counterpart's sudden maneuver, let go of the steering wheel for a split second and had to grip it tight so that they wouldn't plunge down.

"What did you see?" he asked, perturbed and thinking that this'd better be serious.

In response, Marty pointed to what appeared to be a small shack, standing in the middle of a gated area, too small for a farm or even for a normal house, but still distinct as marking a separate piece of property rather than a gardening house that belonged to a bigger farm. "I think it's deserted" he said. "If it is, we could park the car in there."

Mike hesitated, but finally nodded. "I suppose we can at least have a look" he agreed, and he took the car down. The DeLorean's wheels returned to their proper position and the time machine landed gently in front of the shack. Marty opened the gull-wing door, taking a moment to breathe in the western air before sprinting towards the shack. He soon returned, grinning widely.

"There's no one there" he reported. "Not a sign that anyone lives there or has lived there for a long time, and there is only one room big enough to suit the car. The roof is scattered with garbage and rotten planks."

Mike remained skeptical. "How about the door?" he asked.

Marty's grin ended there, and he blushed, clear evidence that he hadn't thought of that matter yet. "I don't think it's big enough to let the car through" he admitted. "And I doubt we can smash it – the walls appear to be relatively sturdy."

"Perfect" Ann muttered. "Looks like we're in for another quarter of fruitless searching."

Mike, in the meantime, remained quiet, thinking hard. Just as Ann and Marty were about to speak up, he turned to them. "Marty, you said the roof was fragile, right?"

"It certainly looks that way" Marty responded, unsure where this was leading.

"And the walls are relatively solid?"

"Yes…"

Mike nodded curtly. "Then get in. I want to try something."

"You're going to try to land _on_ the roof?" Marty replied, skeptically. "You think that'll work? And what if it would mess with history and all that?"

"Hey, you're the one who told me the shack was abandoned" Mike replied, taking the time machine back up into the air. "And how fragile the roof was. If just one bump from the car will cause it to come crashing down, then that sounds like A, a valid parking spot, and B, a reason for the shack to be torn down soon in the original timeline as well. It might even attract less suspicion than your plan, since logically a half-broken roof would be less visible from the ground than a half-broken door. Plus, I wouldn't know where to find a parking place, and I really don't want to return home and get Mom's hopes up and those of your family. And besides…" Mike grinned mischievously. "It sounds cool."

Marty rolled his eyes. "Whatever" he said. "Just keep the car's wheels in their regular position. If we're going to crash-land in any way, that sounds much safer than having them folded in."

"Fair enough" Mike replied, pressing the appropriate button. He then took the time machine closer down towards the top of the shack, which did indeed look like how Marty had described it. Now, all what mattered was whether it would destruct soon enough for their plan to work. He gradually, carefully took the time machine closer, inching against the beams which immediately started cracking, and giving careful nudges from above. Almost, almost…

Then, it suddenly started to work. Just as Mike was slightly turning the car to give it more pressure on the side of the roof, which seemed to have a certain angle to it rather than being entirely flat, the various planks and nails suddenly gave away. Although the teen had been expecting this to happen, he hadn't been able to know when and thus the unexpected nature of the moment and the pressure he had been exerting through the car on the roof caused the time machine to drop, but fortunately Mike was able to grab the steering wheel before they could get further than halfway down. Still tightly holding onto it, he carefully guided them the remaining feet to the ground. When the familiar bump of the DeLorean's front tires hitting the floor of the shack (and in some cases planks and other trash) came, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now what?" Ann asked.

"Now we get out of the car, make sure it's locked tight, and then walk uptown" Mike replied, opening the gull-wing door. "I would say we're only about a mile from the city center, so it should be no more than a twenty-minute-walk. Then we track down Doc and Chris, and figure out what to do next when we get there."

"Sounds good to me" Marty said, opening his gull-wing door and getting out, Ann following him. He stretched his arms and legs a bit before turning back to his friends. "Are you sure you know how to lock this thing?"

"Positive" Mike assured him. "While getting in might be hard, getting out and the time machine restored to how it was isn't actually that difficult." He turned to the computer, in what he figured was a silly motion as the car would hear him no matter which direction he was looking in, but one he felt obliged to make nevertheless. "Time circuits off" he commanded, causing the flat screen to go black once more. "Activate basic security" he added, before shutting the car door. He wasn't quite sure if it would work, but when he tried to press his thumb to the plate afterwards, the door didn't open, so it had to be shut tight.

With the car shut and everything they believed to need on them, the three time travelers exited the shack, Mike carefully shutting the door and making sure the time machine couldn't be seen from outside, and then they set off towards the town. Whereas it would have been a short walk in their home time, given that the area they were in was near where Hill Valley Park would be and thus was at least partly developed, in this period Hill Valley really was nothing more than a few houses around a dirt road. Mike wondered when the real burst in its expansion had happened. He did know his Dad's parents had come here in 1908, and by then they had encountered a city big enough to settle in where a mansion wouldn't look completely out of place. So it had to have happened before then, at least to a certain extent.

Just how small Hill Valley was was a matter that presented itself to them as they neared the town itself. After finding the railroad track it was fairly easy to track down the city itself, as because like Ann argued, it was unlikely for a railroad like this to run through the countryside without the city being near it. They even got there within Mike's twenty minutes, but afterwards lost some extra time just by gawking at everything.

It was by now past 6:30, and with the sunlight having improved the trio could see more than they could just half an hour ago, and what they did see caused them to slow down significantly and walk around just gawking at everything. The Hill Valley of this era really wasn't a city, or even a town. It was just one main street with houses along it that screamed 'western' to any experienced film viewer. Ironically though, perhaps the analogies unsettled the teens even more. There was a manure cart labeled 'A Jones Manure Hauling', a clear ancestor of the Jones family which was still involved in the business in their present day. There were 'Honest Joe Statlers' Fine Horses', which Marty remarked upon as being the ancestors of the dealership that had sold him his truck. Furthermore, as they walked on, there appeared to be a saloon of some sorts on the same spot Lou's Café (and later Lou's Aerobics Studio) would be. But the most jarring change was that of the clock tower and Courthouse.

With this being hundred years in the past, the time travelers had mentally prepared for the possibility of there being no Courthouse at all. That would without a doubt have been strange, but the sight they saw now was perhaps even odder. There was a Courthouse, but it was wooden, and still under construction. Mike's gawk grew as he noticed and recognized the place the clock was supposed to come, now an empty round circle in the sky supported by wooden beams. Indeed, as he now recalled, there had been various banners on the street about a festival three days from now, with the proceeds being for the construction of the new clock tower. It was very peculiar to realize that they had arrived at such a point in Hill Valley's history.

Nevertheless, after standing there a few moments, gaping, and getting odd looks from the passer-bys, Ann was first able to detach herself from the odd sight and head towards the saloon. At that, Marty and Mike exchanged glances, but eventually followed her. After all, this was the Old West, and letting an attractive young girl enter a saloon without escort was asking for trouble. They felt the urge to be there, to protect her if that was necessary – and in any case they didn't want to be left alone.

The wooden doors of the saloon opened easily, and gave Mike another western vibe – the whole place was doing that, in fact. An uncomfortable silence settled – or perhaps it had already settled before their arrival – and many people turned to stare at them. As he looked up, the young aspiring inventor noticed several women of various ages winking at them, in such a state of undress that he could easily guess their purpose.

As they approached the bar, the bartender turned around and slowly walked up to them before shattering the silence. "What'll it be, strangers?"

The trio exchanged glances. "How about ice water?" Marty mouthed.

"In a saloon? In this day and age?" Mike snorted. "No way. Let's just ask for directions and get out of here."

Marty reluctantly nodded and turned to the bartender. "We're trying to find the blacksmiths" he said. "Do you know where they live?"

The bartender nodded. "The Wayne brothers? They live at the Livery Stable, a few houses down. Now if you don't mind me asking you a question in return, why do you boys look so much like that young Eastwood fellow, their nephew?"

Mike hesitated for a moment. "We're… their relatives, sir."

"Cousins" Marty specified.

"They're look-alike cousins" Ann added. "I'm their, uh, their sister. We're here to, um, help them get back home. You see, because they are smiths, they decided to build a fancy wagon, only it broke down… and our family sent my brothers and me to help fix it."

The bartender frowned, but didn't question the story. "Are you three going to order something?" he asked.

The time travelers shook their heads, and the bartender gave them a last look over and went back to work. Mike recognized the hint – they should leave now. He slowly walked back out of the saloon, the others following. As they got back into the square, though, he accelerated his pace, walking up towards the Livery Stable. He only paused to wait for the others as he reached the door, and only as everyone had reached him did he pull it open.

As he looked inside, for a moment, Mike saw nobody, because the eeriness of the stable itself came first. There was a mirror, a bed and several mattresses, and of course several devices that would be normal in a smithy, but there were so many other things. A strange contraption was placed underneath the clock (of whom there were also several) and there was another contraption in the center which nevertheless seemed as if it were still under construction. Mike was sure he would have spent much more time gazing at all this if not for a man at the back of the shop turning towards them as he noticed their presence. "Mike! Marty!" he called out.

"Doc!" Marty exclaimed back, entering the stable and running towards his friend.

"Boys!" Mike's adoptive father echoed, also turning around and heading towards them.

"And girl" Ann corrected him, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Of course" Chris replied, grinning. He hugged Mike and gave Ann a firm yet gentle pat on the back. "It's good to see you all again. Where's the time machine?"

As Ann blinked at the sudden change of topic, Mike and Marty exchanged grins. Now this was how they knew – and loved – their friend/father/whatever. Emmett Brown had, neither in this world nor in the horrific world Mike and his family came from, cared little about introductory phrases or such formalities when turning to another subject, and it showed once more now. "It's outside the town, Dad" Mike answered. "We hid it in some kind of shack."

"A shack?" Doc repeated. "Well, we'll have to see that for ourselves then."

"Where's your own time machine?" Mike wondered, looking around and not noticing it anywhere.

"And where's Calvin?" Ann pressed.

Doc smiled faintly. "Look at the time, Ann" he said. "Your friends are presumably able to stay awake because you left either in the afternoon or the evening… right?" Mike nodded. "Calvin, on the other hand, is sound asleep. After all, it isn't even 7 AM yet."

"You're up, though" Marty noticed. "Is that really required for your smithing work?"

The inventor shrugged. "Perhaps not really, but I like to be available for my customers, and this was a special day anyway, the day you were going to pick us up. That might have contributed to me rising rather early." He then grinned. "And as for the time machine, I just suppose that shows how well we hid it. It's actually out there in the corner." He pointed at the upper left corner of the stable, which, from closer inspection, did seem to have more boxes with tools and other equipment lying around than the rest of the place, and as Mike looked even closer, he could even make out the shape of the DeLorean under some kind of blanket. Nevertheless, he was certain that he could have never figured that out on his own if he hadn't known the car was there.

"That's impressive, Doc, Dad" he muttered, unsure whom to direct the praise to. "Great work."

"Thank you" his father replied. "It is a necessary precaution, after all. People these days may be more polite and knock before they come in, but even so, one cannot afford to take chances, especially not so far into the past."

As he'd said that, he had begun to walk towards the DeLorean, clearly intending to at least show them what their problem was, and Mike was suddenly reminded of the matter that had lingered in his subconscious for several hours now, that of their friends' unfortunate demise, and how to bring it up. Should he do that anyway, right now? It was an awkward message to be sure, and as he looked around, he could see that Ann was already walking towards Calvin, clearly either not thinking about the issue or preferring to at least temporarily forget about it. As the teen was just pondering that, however, Marty cleared his throat and took a newspaper out of his pocket. Mike frowned, not having noticed his counterpart taking that along when they locked the car.

"Doc?" Marty asked. "Chris? Before you get started on anything, you might want to take a look at this thing."

The inventors both frowned, but Doc took the paper, for a moment not looking at the headline but rather keeping his eyes locked on those of his friend. "I take it this is from the future?" he asked. "Not 1985 – the _near_ future?"

As Marty and Mike both nodded, the scientist took a deep breath and stared at the headline and the first sentences. Chris read along over his shoulder. It was interesting to see their different reactions: Doc uttered a soft "Great Scott!" as he read about their deaths, while Chris merely sucked in a breath and otherwise kept a completely straight face. Nevertheless, his lip appeared to be trembling ever so slightly.

"September 8th, 1885" he whispered, before straightening himself. "That would mean our deaths would have occurred the day before… meaning next Monday, September 7th. Five days from now."

"I know, Chris" Marty said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's heavy."

"It certainly is" Doc agreed, also having gotten his breath back. "Of course, that doesn't mean there is reason to be so dreary about it. We know what will happen, and we know that if we head back to the future before Tannen gets a chance to approach us, everything will turn out fine. It just gives us an extra impetus to finish repairing the time machine – both time machines – before Buford can start making life difficult for us."

"What happened anyway?" Ann wondered, returning from visiting Calvin who obviously wasn't making any moves to wake up – although from the way he tossed and turned in the bed, Mike figured one could have been deceived about that. "Why did Buford Tannen… do that? To you? Did some incident occur in-between the three of you?"

Doc and Chris exchanged glances. "We only had one encounter with him so far, and that happened a few days after we arrived" the latter began. "Friday the twenty-eighth, if I'm not mistaken. At that point in time, we hadn't thrown away all vague hopes yet that the time machine might be restored, although the plan of writing a letter had already occurred to us and we were discussing what to put in it, when Tannen suddenly barged in. By that point we had heard about Buford Tannen, but never actually met him yet. It was uncanny how much he looked like Biff, only with a mustache, 1880s clothes and a true outlaw's draw." He shivered. "Anyway, he demanded that we would shoe his horse. I hesitated at first, but at that point caving in did appear to be the best option – after all, we couldn't refuse to serve him just because of negative memories about his descendants, and Emmett even had a faint hope that if everything turned out all right he would agree to pay for it."

"I just hoped that he wouldn't want to add another item to his long list of crimes he was wanted for" Doc admitted, shrugging. "Apparently, though, he didn't care either way, as after he had patiently waited for us to shoe his horse, he just saddled it and when I asked for the money, he just gave me a lousy smile and rode off into the horizon with his gang. Even if we had owned horses ourselves, we probably wouldn't have caught up to him, and we didn't, so we had to rent ours again from the Palace Saloon, and that ended up taking way too long. Besides, we couldn't leave the shop unguarded."

"Rent yours again from the saloon?" Mike repeated. "You mean, you had rented horses before? For what purpose?"

"Well, for getting around, of course" Doc said. "Even if most distances within Hill Valley are perfectly doable on foot, I've already had to visit both Grass Valley and Elmdale to see if there was any equipment we could use in the local hardware stores. And we couldn't use the DeLorean, not even on such long-distance journeys, because its fuel line was ruptured either when we were landing the car or shortly before that."

Mike frowned. "You didn't tell us that in the letter" he said.

"I didn't really think it was important enough to mention" Chris replied. "For the record, though, we're out of gas, and even if we had any I doubt we could get the car up into the air again. The flying circuitry appears to be failing as well."

Marty smirked. "And you tell _us_ to be careful when we use the time machine?"

"Yes – and if this much goes wrong when _we're_ the ones using it, then it's for good reason" Doc retorted. "You know, one of these days we really have to put more serious thought into if not destroying the time machines, then at least leaving them alone. I suppose that with Calvin's existence being in danger, this particular situation was quite necessary, but even so we might want to at least decrease the amount of excursions we take."

"I'll definitely agree with you on that, Doc" Mike said. "After everything that happened to us in the world we came from and even just getting a place to live when we came to this universe, it was really a bummer when we didn't get more than a few weeks to rest before this came along."

"I'm afraid that there was little that could be done about that" Chris apologized. "The issue with Calvin couldn't be postponed, and travelling back in time – which was _your_ idea, in case you've forgotten, and don't get me wrong, it was a good idea too – was what had to be done. I suppose that getting trapped in 1885 was due to human error, but no matter what you say, Emmett, I know it was a honest mistake."

"I suppose it was" Doc agreed. "Yet, it was a mistake that could have been prevented if only I hadn't been so stubborn. Like how I put Marty through all that agony in 1955 when I refused to read his letter."

"I did that too, remember?" Chris said. "And we thought it was a good idea at the time, and we had reasons to think so. I wish it had gone differently, but there's nothing we can do about it now. Now, should we wake Calvin before our departure or not?"

His counterpart blinked. "Probably" he replied. "Although Calvin definitely deserves to get a good night's rest what with everything that has been going on, we can't leave him behind, all alone and asleep. Customers could show up, and it would be a fairly awkward sight. The question is, though, how we're going to wake him."

Ann looked up and grinned. "I take it you haven't managed to drill normal bed times into him yet" she said. "I would have thought that was pretty much necessary. This is the Old West, and if you have to wake at dawn…"

"We don't get up that early every day," Doc said, "and even so, it was always a temporary job, so there's little we had to worry about. We tried to change Calvin's ways at first, but soon abandoned it. It's way more trouble than it's worth."

"Not right now, though" Ann pointed out. "We have to wake him." She looked down at the unconscious teen, who was still blissfully sleeping through the entire conversation. "Got any thoughts on how to do that?"

"If it comes to that, you might need to resort to pouring water into his neck, but for the sake of both Calvin and the blankets, I hope it won't" Chris answered. "First, you might just try shaking him firmly, and talking to him. You won't succeed immediately, but if you're persistent enough, you might just have a shot."

Ann nodded absent-mindedly, and lightly slapped her friend's face. "Calvin? Cal? Wake up." In response, the teen merely snored slightly louder. "Calvin? Wake up, please. It's me. Ann."

"Maybe you should try to kiss him" Marty suggested, grinning.

"Maybe I should pour that water down _your_ neck" Ann retorted. "Calvin?" She started shaking him more roughly now. "Calvin Arthur McFly, are you going to wake up or will I be forced to resort to more dramatic measures?"

That seemed to do the trick. The snoring suddenly ceased, and the teen rolled over, making intelligible noises. "Mmm… mom?" he murmured, putting his face back into the pillow, leaning so deep into it with his head that Mike couldn't believe he wasn't choking. "Is that you?"

"There, there now" Ann replied, kneeling down next to him. "Just relax."

"I had a horrible nightmare" Calvin murmured. "Dreamt… dreamt that I was in a Western. I was trapped in the past, it was horrible."

Ann barely resisted the urge to snicker, and behind her Mike and Marty couldn't refrain from small chuckles. "Well," she said, tenderly, "you're safe and sound now."

"Hmm…."

"Back in good old 1885."

That got Calvin's eyes to snap open. He turned and looked at Ann, who couldn't help but burst into laughter at the bewildered look on his face. "Ann!" he exclaimed, looking around. "Mike! Marty! What are you guys doing here!"

"Trying to wake you up" Doc informed him, walking over. "You know they came here to get you – to get us – home, didn't you? You were there when we wrote the letter yesterday."

"Yeah, but you did say that we could just as easily end up in the original timeline, in one where they couldn't have gone back because the letter wouldn't have reached them yet" Calvin replied. "Or the letter could, for some reason, not have made it." He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "But you guys are here. You're really here."

"That's right" Mike said. "And we're here to help you get back, but first, we have to pick up our DeLorean from the shack outside of town where we stored it. Are you up for helping us get it?"

Calvin yawned at first, but then he nodded. "Yeah, I suppose I am. Let me just get changed, and I'll be ready to go, no problem."

As Mike watched him, though, he saw that it _would_ present a problem for his counterpart, who seemed utterly disorientated as he stepped out of bed, keeping his eyes shut when possible and strolling around aimlessly and especially slowly towards some small cabinets Mike guessed his clothes were in. Furthermore, Calvin's 1800s pajamas hadn't been sealed tight entirely, and the flap just under his back was loose. The teen once more had to restrain himself not to burst out laughing at the sight.

Well, at least there were things to laugh about here. Because likely, even if the situation wound up going exactly as they planned and as fast as they had planned, there would still be unhappy events taking place in Hill Valley. That was inevitable. And Mike sincerely hoped that whatever happened, they would still be able to smile afterwards.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note: New chapter. Contains some plot development, but mostly set-up. Hope you like it anyway.  
_

 **Chapter Seven**

Wednesday, September 2, 1885  
09:30 PM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

Getting to the DeLorean, at least, would be a piece of cake. However, getting it over to the blacksmith store wouldn't, and the time travelers were already despairing that they would have to wait until night before they could drive it into town (of course, since the new DeLorean could travel through time without any complications, they could just go there if they wanted, but Doc and Chris were inclined to limit the time travelling to a minimum) when Chris came up with the idea to really haul the car into town on a wagon. It still wound up taking much of the morning to rent a wagon, get the Palace Saloon to rent out as many horses as they needed, and they had to go at a slow pace to keep the DeLorean from rolling off the cart. And of course, they needed to reuse the blanket, this time to keep the new car covered. With some boxes also on the cart, there was fortunately nobody who read more into the scene than they should have.

By the time the new DeLorean had been hauled into Hill Valley, it was lunchtime, and for the newcomers that meant an opportunity seeing an elaborate device in action which Doc and Chris had created in just a few days work, a device that reminded them all of Einstein's breakfast maker. This machine baked eggs and bacon without trouble and even had a toaster included for bread, leaving only very little actual work for them to do. After they were nourished, the six time travelers set off to compare the DeLoreans to each other. And that was where the real difficulties started.

First of all, as the newcomers had lost a tire on the new DeLorean which had apparently been cut by nails in the old shack, and it took a while to patch it up again. Then secondly, as they tried to repair the time circuits, it soon became clear just how great the difficulties would be. There had been no spare time circuit control microchip in the toolbox, nor had either Doc or Chris ever created one. It soon appeared that it might not actually be possible, even with the tools they had, to repair the time circuits. Although Marty proposed that they make a separate journey to the future with the working DeLorean to pick up spare parts (or better, have Doc or Chris go) the thought of leaving the others behind, even if it was just in one soon to be erased timeline, was one they really didn't want to bear in the end, especially considering the gruesome disaster that had happened in the previous history. Besides the time circuit control microchip, other devices not just in the time circuits, but also on other locations in the car, appeared to be failing, and while the latter mostly could be fixed or at least patched for the time being, the time circuits were too far gone. In fact, Chris even stated with some resignation, the only way to get back to the future and not leave the car behind (which was contemplated as well, of course, but shot down as there was no way all of them could be pressed into the one DeLorean) was to restore the override time circuits and have them go to the future that way. Despite the time travelers' conviction to cling onto hope, this view was increasingly shared by many of them as the day progressed.

By the time evening fell, minor fixes had been made to the car, but permanent reparation neither had neither been attempted nor had it succeeded. Although Doc was inclined to at least try to screw open the time circuits and see what could be done on the inside, Chris was wary to agree to a scheme that might fail, and he got his way this time. Further annoyances came up throughout the day as customers visited the blacksmith shop, requiring the cars to be hidden under the blanket and uncovered once more when they left. With there now being two cars, the disguises were quite flimsy, but thankfully no one appeared to be interested in any more than their horses being shoed and their carriages fixed. Even an older woman, whom Calvin remembered as being prone to gossiping, barely gave the strange devices in the back a look. Nevertheless, their problems weren't fixed, and as the night set in a connection of the cars was increasingly viewed as inevitable, a solution that would be quite complex.

As he mulled about all of that, Calvin decided to take a walk. He made a curt announcement of leaving to Doc and then exited the store, staring up at the clear night sky. It never ceased to amaze the teenager how much stars one could see with pitch blackness around. Hill Valley, with the exception of the Palace Saloon, was also quiet as a tomb, and it was quite refreshing.

Unfortunately, as Calvin noticed, it also caused ones mind to wander. Although he was certainly relieved that rescue had come, the events of the day had also increased his uncertainty about his own future. It had been the impending threat of erasure that had caused the journey back in time to happen in the first place, and which had indirectly stranded them in 1885. Doc and Chris had promised him help would come and get them out of there, but with that help came the distressing news that in the original timeline, he would have died in just a few days, killed by Buford Tannen. The thought continued to create a shiver throughout his spine every time he thought about it.

The others were lucky, Calvin deduced. They, at least, were not fundamentally at fault for this mess – and he supposed he wasn't either, as he certainly hadn't wanted to start disappearing, but it certainly felt like he was – and death didn't loom on the horizon for them. How would his future be? Would they be able to get back home, and would they be able to find a permanent solution, or would time travelling become some sort of life support he'd have to cling onto to survive? The seventeen-year-old shrugged half-heartedly, realizing that it wouldn't be that bad, as given the readings Doc and Chris had taken in 1 B.C. it was likely that he would only have to go ahead or backwards once every month or two. Even so, the thought that such permanent reliance on time travel was necessary at all gave him a strange feeling of uncertainty. Of artificialness, too.

The teen was still musing about that and would have likely continued to do so for a very long time when behind him the sound of someone clearing his or her throat could be heard. Alerted, Calvin spun around, and was incredibly relieved to see Ann.

"You scared me" he said, smiling. As she frowned, he felt the need to make her feel at ease. "Not much, just a little."

Ann smiled back. "You kind of scared me, too" she pointed out. "You had wandered off, and I wasn't sure where you could have gone. Are you in the habit of walking out at night?"

"Sometimes" Calvin admitted. "I kind of like stargazing, especially because my Dad – my _new_ Dad – has instilled me with lots of stories about aliens the last months. I guess he's trying to make up for all those years he couldn't do that." The teen chuckled somewhat, then sighed. "And it's a good occasion to think."

Ann walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "About what?" she asked.

Calvin shrugged. "Lots of things" he replied. "My future, about if I'll ever get home, if I'll ever be able to lead a normal life, if you guys will be able to get me out of here without getting shot by Buford Tannen… that sort of stuff." He grinned. "And I suppose right now, I'm also thinking of what Marty will say when he hears you came to visit me here."

Ann shook her head, tsking. "I heard that from Mike, too" she agreed. "They really seem determined to portray us as…" She fidgeted, taking her hand off his shoulder and drawing in a deep breath. "…a couple, don't they?"

Calvin nodded. "They sure do" he said, shyly. "I…" Ann looked up, as if encouraging him to go on. "I can't say I don't understand them. I mean, I am not really in love with you, you know, the way they claim, but I…" He shrugged. "I kind of miss Jennifer" he finally settled on.

Ann nodded, sighing. "I suppose I can understand that" she muttered. "I never dated anyone in the alternate 1985, but if there was someone I cared as much for as Marty does for Jennifer – this universe's Jennifer – I would miss him too." She chuckled. "And ever since I noticed that Marty and Jennifer were dating I've somehow, subconsciously, felt drawn to you. I had the feeling that for some reason, the two of us ought to be together… and you are kind of cute, you know."

Calvin blushed. "Thanks" he replied. "I think you're cute too… but I suppose you already knew that." He grinned awkwardly. "I suppose I feel the same way, really. Seeing Marty and Jennifer together really makes my heart sting, and although there are plenty of cute girls at school who have made it clear they're interested in me every now and then, I somehow feel that I shouldn't be with them, not when you and Claudia are around, and I feel… attracted to you. More to you than to Claudia, though… but Claudia is really nice too and never mind that" he suddenly finished.

Unfortunately, Ann had caught onto it. "You feel more attracted to me than to Claudia? Why? But shouldn't you feel the same way about us, if…"

She left the remainder of her sentence unspoken, but Calvin could fill it in. 'If you were merely interested in us because we look like your ex-girlfriend'. That, however, would have unfortunate implications, the implication that he _wasn't_ merely attracted to Ann because she looked like Jennifer, and that was more than Calvin McFly wanted to face right now. He took a deep breath. "Perhaps" he admitted. "But I have interacted more with you than with Claudia the last weeks. Not much more, but Mike and she go out of the house only occasionally, because of your past and all."

"As if I'm so outgoing" Ann snorted. "When was the last time I went along with you and Marty and Jennifer to anything?" She shrugged. "I suppose that after all I've gone through, I just prefer being with my family and in a nice and quiet atmosphere… but that's really beside the point. I don't think that would be enough to explain it anyway. I feel a stronger attraction to you than to Mike, lately, and he's the guy who grew up in our world."

"In Switzerland" Calvin pointed out. "You don't share the exact same history."

"No, but we're closer to each other than we are to you" Ann said. "And yet, I feel like I can relate to you better. Calvin…" She sighed. "If you're not interested in me, you can just say so, and I'll back off. I just thought that you know, maybe you actually were."

"I am" Calvin replied, extremely softly. "I mean, I'm not… I don't know." He stared at her. "I really don't know. I just don't want to jump into a relationship with you just on a whim… I mean, if you'd even want to do that."

"Oh, that wouldn't be too much of a problem" Ann replied, coyly smiling at him and once more putting an arm around his shoulder before taking it off again. "I just don't want to burden you. Calvin, you… and I, I suppose… we've got so many possibilities open to us. You might meet a cute girl tomorrow that you're really interested in, and if you were dating me you would feel burdened, and that wouldn't be right, especially if we were just dating because we felt like we ought to. We shouldn't just jump on a whim."

"That sounds reasonable" Calvin agreed, strangely feeling a weird sense of disappointment deep inside his heart. "But if we have dated people a while, and that won't work out…"

Ann chuckled. "Hold onto your horses, Cal" she replied. "No reason to be overeager. If nothing works out, we can always talk about what to do later." And with that, she planted a surprise kiss on his cheek and walked back to the stable. Calvin stared after her, feeling strangely stupefied.

oooooooo

The night passed without any peculiarities, and by the time the new time travelers got back up the next morning they found out that Doc and Chris had already made up a plan for how to solve their situation. They had apparently stayed up for much of the night, thinking up all ways imaginable to get them back home but in the end, as Chris had grudgingly admitted before, there appeared to be no other solution but the difficult one – restore the link between the two cars, override the destination time of the broken DeLorean, and thus transport it through the same temporal field the 'normal' DeLorean could go through. The problem with that was, however, that it would be rather difficult for the normal DeLorean to go up into the air carrying the regular car, which after all had had its hover circuits broken. Of course, they had managed to do without that when Doc, Marty and Calvin had gone from 1985 to 1958 and onwards to the alternate world just fine, but that had been on Twentieth Century roads, and in the Old West that would certainly be more difficult. The problem itself was also rather complicated, but as the previous example showed, it could be done in just a few hours by four people working together, and there were six of them here now, so theoretically that would be a piece of cake with the future equipment Mike had brought. All in all, it looked like they could be out of here by the afternoon, or perhaps by the evening, provided Doc and Chris could agree about balancing the various necessities of both avoiding attention and getting a road they could see in order for them to be able to drive safely to 88.

There, however, there was a more difficult problem altogether, and that was the gas tank. The one in the broken DeLorean was almost entirely drained, and when the new time travelers had looked under the tank of their DeLorean when fetching it the previous morning, it appeared that a leak had emerged there as well. It wasn't a big leak, but yet enough to, combined with the amount of flying around they had done and the meddling around with the engine on the desert roads when they were still uncertain whether to drive back, fly back or rent a cart for it, leave the tank less than a quarter-full. It was certainly more than enough to fly back to the future, and most probably more than enough to drive home. It might, however, not be enough to take another DeLorean on tow, one which was drained of all gas. Doc and Chris asserted that they would need to test their theory first, but that it was likely that they would need more aid, an engine strong enough to tow or push the DeLoreans, compensate for the lack of horsepower in the new DeLorean, and get the two time machines up to eighty-eight miles per hour. How that would be arranged, however, was a matter the two scientists left unclear.

There was, of course, yet an obvious solution to their problem, which was to take the new DeLorean ahead in time and fetch more gas. However, there were solutions that were too simple for Chris and Doc to think of, and as Calvin observed, they were simply thinking too complex for any of that to ever hit their minds. By the time Marty was the one to realize the possibility, however, it was already too late. In a last-ditch attempt to forestall the pending inevitability that an alternative power source would have to be fetched, Chris and Doc tried, with an alternative fuel they had fetched from the Palace Saloon, to power the time machine. This experiment failed drastically, as just when the car appeared to work and the time travelers let hope into their hearts, the fuel injection manifold blew and another hole was torn into the gas tank. Fortunately, some of the fuel could be caught in time, but they were forced to put it into the broken DeLorean, as clearly the new one was no longer capable of holding it – repairing would take too long. Increasingly, as Ann put it, their situation was going from bad to worse to even worse to unimaginably worse. Doc, ever the optimist, had of course clearly disagreed with that, but that there was something to be said for Ann's arguments was shown a few hours later.

No one saw the disaster coming. Doc and Chris had restored the cover over both DeLoreans, where they had done some preliminary work on the time circuit override, and they were now trying to complete one of their tasks as smiths, namely fixing a carriage which belonged to an old couple who had brought it in two whole days ago. Calvin was toying around with the hoverboard which Marty had brought along with them, Ann was trying to fix her hair using the old mirror, while Mike and Marty were just talking to each other, Mike telling his counterpart about an amusing incident that had happened during the time when his parents had been on their honeymoon. Apparently, Claudia had accidentally spilled some juice on the floor, and then she had tried to wipe it away with a napkin which Mike had unfortunately drenched in some transparent chemicals which wound up making the stain much worse and permanent by reacting with the juice. Calvin half-heartedly listened, continuing to toy with the hoverboard but still catching at least some of Mike's story. He had just reached the part where Claudia was scolding him for leaving the napkin out there in the first place when the doors of the stable burst open and Buford Tannen barged in.

All inhabitants of the stable were instantly alerted, Calvin making sure to immediately hide the hoverboard under his bed before continuing to gawk at the newcomers. As Doc, however, stopped what he was doing and confidently faced the bully head-on (a daunting task for sure, especially for someone who knew for a fact that this was the man who would have killed him four days hence), Chris cautiously winked at the teen. Calvin was puzzled for a moment, and then got it. He got up, taking care that neither Buford nor his gang, who had followed him in, had their attention on him, and then made his way to the Terminator.

The Terminator was a prototype gun Chris had constructed for their safety by disassembling the two weapons the previous blacksmith had owned. Within a few days after they had arrived, the gun had been dramatically enhanced and was now capable of, as Chris boasted, 'shooting a man's hat off at a hundred yards'. Calvin thought that was an exaggeration, but the gun would come very much in handy indeed.

As he pondered all that and started slowly heading for the gun, which was fortunately close-by in the rear of the stable, Buford spoke up. "You owe me money, you two" he said. "Want to pay it now, or do we have to teach you a lesson first?"

"Money? For that horse?" Doc snorted. "In case you forgot, Tannen, we're the one who're supposed to get paid for doing a shoeing job, and I don't recall ever getting anything from you."

"My horse threw a shoe" Buford explained. "Seeing as you two and your lousy assistant were the ones who did that job, I figure you're responsible."

"You never paid us, as Emmett said" Chris pointed out. "The way I see it, that would make us even. But if you insist on us redoing the shoeing job, I'm sure that something could be arranged."

"And that's where you're wrong, blacksmith" Buford snarled. "I was on my horse when it threw the shoe, and then I got thrown off! And that caused me to bust a perfectly good bottle of Kentucky Red Eye. So the way I figure, you both owe me five dollars for the whiskey, and seventy-five dollars for the horse!"

Doc sighed. "Look, there's no need to start threatening here, okay? Like Chris said, if your horse threw a shoe, bring him back and we'll reshoe him, and then we can talk again."

"But I done shot that horse!" Buford exclaimed.

Chris shrugged, glancing at Calvin, who had finally managed to get to the gun without notice and was now reaching for it. "Then I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for you."

"Nothing but paying me eighty dollars, and doing so _now_ " Buford said, pulling out his gun and motioning for the others to do the same. "Or else…"

"Or else what, Tannen?" Calvin replied, raising the gun at them.

Buford appeared genuinely frightened for a moment, but when he saw Calvin he chuckled, turning his gun on the teenager. "You really think you can threaten me from there, runt? You'll get blown away before you can get close enough to take a good shot. In case you ain't noticed, you're outnumbered here."

Calvin smiled. "Oh, I noticed" he replied. "But if you don't mind, let me show you what this gun here can do. Think I can get, say, that bag of flour up there, near where Do… where John and Emmett are standing?"

The gang noticed the bag, and chuckled, one of them stepping towards the bag as if to taunt him to do it. Buford also grinned. "If you wanna try it, runt, go ahead" he said. "Have some fun before you all either pay up or get shot to pieces."

Calvin grinned, a look on his face that must have appeared cocky for the ones watching him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mike, Marty and Ann, who had fortunately remained mostly unnoticed by the Tannen gang as of yet, watching him with an obvious nervousness. Calvin attempted to send them a reassuring look, but that didn't appear to help. In any case, he had to focus on his mission. The young man carefully aimed the gun, peering through the lens at the other end of the shop until he had a clear view of the center of the bag. Smiling, he pulled the trigger…

…and the bullet rang out, dug a hole into the bag almost exactly at the place he'd intended it to, pouring flour onto the ground and even some on the gang member, whose dark hat turned white in a second. The dumbfounded look on his face was priceless.

Buford also stared at the teen with a stupefied expression on his face, but soon recovered. "We'll be back" he snarled. "This definitely ain't settled yet. If you don't pay up, then you'd better be keeping that gun close to you all the time. Cause one day, you're gonna get a bullet in your back." With that, he stepped out of the store, motioning for the others to follow.

The sigh of relief that Calvin issued when the gang left was soon echoed by virtually everybody else within the room. "Well," Chris said, quietly, "they're gone. Thank you, Calvin."

Marty grinned, still somewhat nervously. "That was awesome!" he exclaimed. "Which of you made that gun?"

"I did – though Emmett helped" Chris replied. "I figured that it would be necessary if we were going to have to spend a while in this time period. I hadn't realized we would need it so soon, though."

"If you earned the ire of someone like that, I certainly can't blame you for constructing the gun" Ann said, shivering. "Or even if you just ran a risk of meeting him. Man, and I thought _Biff_ was scary. For some reason, this guy freaks me out even more."

"I wouldn't know" Mike said. "Biff was frightening too, and he had a huge business empire behind him, and essentially ran Hill Valley if not all of California. This Buford guy seems to be an idiot with a gun who is trigger-happy and doesn't clean up well. I'm not saying that he isn't dangerous, and if I'd thought that, what just happened would have disproven that notion, but I'm not ready to agree that he's worse than Biff."

"I suppose I get your point, Mike" Chris agreed. "Buford may have terrorized us for a few days, but Biff was the one who turned your life into a disaster by murdering your father and marrying your mother, and who got me committed. In the end, though, it wouldn't matter much if Biff would shoot you or Buford did it – you would be dead all the same."

Mike gulped. "I suppose so" he muttered. "I still can't believe we keep running into all these Tannens, though. First Biff, of course, and then there's Cliff as an annoying bully, and then Griff, whom Marty has had his dealings with… and now there's Buford, who clearly isn't a cheerful, friendly guy either."

"Great observation, Mike" Doc remarked half-sarcastically. "Honestly, though, I don't know why it happens, but I've begun to treat it as a near-certainty that it will happen. And they all look alike, too…"

"At least there's still a McFly in every generation as well" Calvin said. "And they look like us, more or less, and they're nice."

Doc nodded, and was about to respond when a carriage rode up. "Emmett!" the carriage's owner called. "Howdy, Emmett!"

"Hubert!" Doc called back. "It's the mayor" he explained, briefly turning back to his friends.

Mayor Hubert got out of the carriage and walked up to the time travelers. "Now Emmett, remember when you volunteered at the town's meeting last week to pick up the new school teacher when she came in?" he asked, talking with a distinct accent.

"Oh yes, quite so" Doc replied.

"Well we just heard, she's coming in tomorrow" Hubert continued. He took out a sheet of paper and handed it to the inventor. "Here are all the details for you. Thank you for all your help. Chris, Clint" he added, curtly greeting the other inhabitants of the stable he knew before looking at the others somewhat confusedly and turning back to his carriage.

"Any time, Hubert!" Doc called after him.

"Oh," the mayor remembered, just before getting into the carriage, "her name is miss Clayton. Clara Clayton." With that, he rode off.

The name struck a bell with nearly all of them, but it was Mike who spoke first. "Holy shit!" he hissed. "Dad, isn't that…"

"Yes, it's your mother's maiden name, and the name of the woman who died in the ravine" Chris replied, shaken. "With our luck, I would bet on it being that very woman. She was a schoolteacher, wasn't she?"

"I think so" Mike replied. "What's this about anyway? Why did you agree to pick her up, Doc?"

The inventor shrugged. "We attended the town meeting last Saturday, as the mayor insisted we come as 'new citizens of Hill Valley'. Then the matter of the new school teacher came up – the last one retired prior to the summer, I believe, and the city council has apparently been involved in quite the hunt to find a new one ever since – and everyone informed the mayor that they were busy and couldn't commit themselves, especially as by that time we didn't yet know what day she was going to come in, only that it would be at the end of the week. So we got singled out as the ones with a flexible job, and since Chris was insistent on working more on the time machine – at that time we hadn't worked out the details of our plan to write home yet – and Calvin was needed as his assistant, I ended up being the one volunteering."

"And you were just going to go back home without picking her up if we had gotten everything fixed before tomorrow morning?" Ann guessed. "That's not right, Doc. If you made a deal to go and get her…"

"I suppose not, but there might be someone else to pick her up" Doc said. "I can't imagine that in this Hill Valley, a woman in need of someone to ride her home, especially a school teacher, would be left stranded on a train station all day."

"Even so, Doc" Mike said. "You agreed to do it, and if you don't do it now and leave her in that situation, isn't that going to disrupt the continuum?"

"Perhaps" Chris remarked. "Or perhaps picking her up will make the situation worse. What if this was the situation in which she died? If we mess with that, we will be altering my wife's history, which will get very dangerous very fast… although I suppose that it won't be affecting her directly because we are from a parallel duplicate universe, but either way it would still be saving someone who, in her death, was an important figure in Hill Valley."

"The train station is a long way from the ravine" Doc pointed out. "Even if she was originally going to walk home or fetch a ride from somebody else, I don't think that would do the trick of killing her. We'd be miles from the ravine."

"Perhaps we should just pick her up and see what happens" Calvin proposed. "Although I suppose that could leave you in the situation of the original person who would pick her up, and if it is the fatal ride to her death for some reason, you'd be along for the journey." He shivered.

"Guys?" Marty then asked. "You mind if I ask a question first?"

Doc glanced at Chris and shrugged. "Go ahead" he replied.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

Chris stared at him in confusion. "We're talking about the potential ramifications of Emmett picking up a woman who could very well be Clara Clayton, my wife's ancestor – or rather, my wife's _counterpart's_ ancestor – who fell into Clayton Ravine. I don't know what could be so confusing about that."

"It wouldn't be," Marty admitted, "except for one thing: I have never in my life heard of this Clayton Ravine you're talking about. The ravine outside Hill Valley is called Shonash, there is nothing remarkable about it, and I have never heard about Susan having any famous ancestor in town who fell in there!"

As Calvin began to feel that his brother was perhaps going a little crazy, Chris grinned broadly. "Of course! Marty, thank you for your observations! This is so obvious, I can't believe I didn't think of it before!"

"Considering I don't have any clue what you're talking about, I can hardly blame you" Marty smoothly replied. "What are you onto now?"

Chris uncertainly looked around for a chalkboard, found none, decided that he could do without and began to explain. "It's all very simple" he said. "In the original timeline, Miss Clara Clayton, Susan's indirect ancestor, fell into the ravine – Shonash Ravine, I suppose, as it sounds like it could very well be an old Indian name – and it was renamed in her memory. In the new timeline, however, Emmett picked her up from the station and apparently stopped her death from happening. Therefore, in the new 1985 that you came from, the ravine's name would be Shonash. However, Emmett, Calvin and I couldn't logically be affected by new memories about that as we were in the past causing the changes, and Mike and Ann aren't affected because they are from a wholly different dimension and thus immune to changes occurring in this universe's timeline. Marty, however, is the only fully native person along on the trip, which is why his memories were affected and he indeed remembers the ravine as Shonash. It all makes sense now."

"You're the Doc, Chris" Ann replied. "But what does that mean with regards to what we were just discussing?"

Emmett caught on. "It means that since I picked Miss Clayton up in the timeline you came from, and yet only died three days later on Monday, I wasn't killed in the process of picking her up. Perhaps she did only die later this month, and whatever happened to her was prevented by me some time after that event."

Calvin's head was starting to ache. "So basically, you think it's okay to pick her up?"

Doc and Chris exchanged glances. "Possibly" the latter replied.

"Probably" the former corrected.

"Then we've got that settled" Ann deadpanned.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note:_ Doc meets Clara Clayton. This will not cause problems, will it? Read and review!

 **Chapter Eight**

Friday, September 4, 1885  
9:50 AM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

The remainder of the day again passed remarkably fast. Doc and Chris proposed that they focus especially on the attaching of the cars to each other, and no one had any problems with that. The one overbearing problem, though, was still the question of how to get the two time machines through the time barrier in the first place. Chris had thought up some plans, and so had Doc, but they were all rejected one by one.

First, Chris had made the suggestion of riding the car down a steep hill. While that would certainly be able to get them to eighty-eight, if the hill was steep and long enough, the others soon pointed out that they would never find a smooth enough surface. The car would be rattled and the inhabitants along with it, and what was worse, the rough terrain wouldn't be good for the time machine. Then there was the issue still of them riding down a hill in the first place and the risks that that might bring. Doc especially, after toying with it for a moment, dismissed the idea and came up with the plan to use ice instead. After the lake froze over in winter, they could then slide across it and the smooth surface up to eighty-eight. This plan was given no consideration at all and the others gently reminded their friend that it was September now, winter was thus still months away, and that if nothing happened they were going to get shot by Buford Tannen on Monday. That also scratched some of the other long-range plans they could come up with.

As the night fell, no consensus had been reached. Marty had suggested that they would get some horses to tow the DeLorean up, and Doc had at first been lukewarm about the issue – after all, if it didn't hurt there was no use in not trying it out – but Chris had rejected it outright, considering it too implausible that a horse would come even remotely near eighty-eight, and that had been that. And then Mike had, after long thinking, come up with some wacky scheme involving a catapult or some other elastic device in which the time machine would drive back before being shot off either into the sky or forwards. This plan was rejected for being too wacky, too dangerous, too out-of-control and even too complicated as Doc wasn't sure they would be able to build a catapult or even acquire enough elastic material in time. Then Ann and Marty came up with some variations on the previous plans, all of which fell through. The latter eventually suggested that they could just send another message through Western Union, which some in the stable eagerly agreed with until Doc and Chris reminded them that this would mean getting one of the time machines (or both) stored somewhere that would last hundred years for their friends to pick up, and then there would still be the issue of how to get all of them out, and things might get worse. Then Western Union might become suspicious about yet another long-distance letter being sent through its services, and it might alter history. But the most important objection perhaps was that their murder by Buford Tannen still hadn't been averted, and this meant that at least in this timeline, either they were all (or some of them) still going to get murdered on the seventh, an unpleasant prospective, or secondly that even if they all survived, there would be six of them affecting hundred years of history (which the premature deaths of Calvin, Doc and Chris had prevented from occurring in the original timeline) and causing so many alterations that they would have to be extremely careful in order to still have their friends being the people they remembered. That prospect made Marty's idea sound less attractive even to him, especially when he considered the long-term ramifications of living his life out in the Old West, even if it was just in one timeline.

Nevertheless, this left them without a plan for getting home and with severe concerns as they all went to sleep. In the overall depression that overwhelmed them all after an uneasy night's rest (or more accurately, lack of night's rest) Doc was the one to suggest that they would all go along with picking up Miss Clayton. Eventually they considered it as being too much, though, given how many of them there were, and it was decided that just Marty and Calvin would go along with Doc. And thus, around 9:30, they headed over to the train station, and started waiting patiently. Or at least, Marty and Calvin were waiting patiently, while Doc was restlessly pacing around. However, after a while, his pacing ceased, and a thoughtful look appeared on his face as he stared at the train schedule, one that he kept up as the distant sound of the train approaching could be heard.

"What's the matter, Doc?" Marty finally asked. "Is something wrong?"

The inventor shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, Marty… far from it. In fact, I think I may have a solution for this whole mess we're stranded in."

The teen had to puzzle that out for a while, staring at the train and remembering the problems they had, and Calvin had the idea a second faster than his twin did. "The train?" he asked. "You think we should… we could use the train? To push the time machines up to eighty-eight?"

"It might be possible" Doc replied. "In fact, as far as vehicles of the period go, it is the only one that even remotely _could_ do something like that. And I don't think the DeLoreans are going to make it on their own power, nor will we be able to let nature do its work. From what we've discussed about the horses, pulling the cars also isn't an option, but if we could get a train to push it up… it might be the only option we have of getting something arranged _before_ Monday."

"This is a pretty isolated area, though" Calvin remarked. "I doubt the trains come through so often. And even if there's a train coming tomorrow or even on Sunday, which I don't think, how would we get hold on one to push the DeLoreans up?"

"That's a good question" Doc considered, as the train neared the station and started slowing down significantly. "Let me think about that. We might, in the end, have to go for an unconventional approach… a dangerous one, yet a calculable risk."

"You want us to hijack the train?" Marty exclaimed, causing some heads in the area to turn in their direction. Calvin instinctively gave his brother a firm nudge in the side.

"Borrow" Doc clarified, as if that meant a world of difference – and perhaps to him it did. "It is a risk that one can oversee, and we wouldn't hang around to get caught anyway. The question is, though, where we could find a place to actually push the DeLorean up in the first place. These tracks are fairly curvy, and the trains of this era are likely not that fast. About the second aspect Chris and I could likely do something by minor modifications to either fuel or engine or both… probably the fuel, we wouldn't have time to tamper with the engine… but the first will be a difficult one to resolve. Likely, we will need a long stretch of straight track, and I'm not sure where to find it. Perhaps the one out by the ravine might be fitting… if it is already there in this time period, of course…"

"Let's save that for later, Doc" Calvin urged. He pointed up at the train, which had come completely to a halt and where people were moving around inside preparing to get off. "The train's here and we have a guest to pick up, after all."

"Of course" their friend muttered in response, and they walked over to the train doors. They shifted open gradually, apparently manually, and the first people began to step out. A few other people also moved closer from the platform, as they were apparently waiting for someone too. Several men and women came by, and Calvin was so busy watching them that he had almost forgotten what they'd come for until he heard a soft yet audible gasp near him.

As he turned towards the stairs of the train and saw the woman standing there, his first instinct was to do the same thing Doc had done and gasp. This lady bore a stunning resemblance to Susan Clayton-Brown, Chris' wife. Certainly, they weren't duplicates, as this woman was dressed in nineteenth century attire, had a slightly different face, wore her hair (which was brown rather than blonde) differently and had slightly darker eyes. She also appeared to be a few years older than Susan was. But that was about it, as far as the changes went, and from the way he was gawking, Doc was feeling the same thing.

The woman stared right back at Doc, and it took roughly ten seconds before she got moving after the people still in line behind her had made rough noises that she should hurry up. Even then she only reluctantly moved, staring at the inventor in front of her with fascination even though she'd never seen him before.

It was then that Doc came to his senses. "Excuse me, ma'am" he whispered softly. "Would you happen to be miss Clara Clayton? The new school teacher?"

The woman nodded, keeping her eyes locked on Doc's face. "That's right" she replied, just as soft.

Doc nodded, then awkwardly extended his hand, which Clara took. "Emmett Bro- er, Wayne at your service, miss Clayton" he told her. "We are here to pick you up – my assistant, Clint Eastwood, and his cousin Lewis." Marty had, after long deliberation, finally gone with the last name of his favorite singer as his first name, which seemed to pass smoothly here.

Clara blinked, as if noticing Marty and Calvin for the first time just then. "That's very gentlemanly of you, Mr. Wayne" she replied.

Doc almost blushed. "Well, the town wanted someone to pick you up and help you get home, and I was available at this moment and willing to do it. And you may call me Emmett."

"Thank you, Mister Wayne – Emmett" Clara replied. "And you may call me Clara, if you wish." They continued to stare at each other.

At that point, Marty and Calvin exchanged uneasy glances, and the former decided that it had just about gone long enough. He cleared his throat, and both Doc and Clara appeared to come to their senses. Clara took her bags, with Doc hurriedly taking some for her. "We've got horses parked nearby" he said. "We will have you at the place you are supposed to be before you know it."

As Clara nodded gratefully at that, Calvin frowned deeply. He knew Doc was generally a responsible person, but the looks he was casting at Clara were making him somewhat worried. Looking at Marty, he could guess his twin thought the same thing. Sighing, he headed towards his own horse.

oooooooo

They brought Clara home without incident, and even though Doc and she had shared a short conversation at the house – with the former letting slip about the fact that he was a scientist – everything else went fine as well. When they got back to the stable, in fact, the first thing Doc brought up was the train idea they had come up with, and added the fact that they had safely delivered Clara home only as an afterthought. Chris did think the plan was fairly risky, but eventually admitted that they had limited their options enough for it to be necessary. The two of them then went on a separate visit to the train station, and returned twenty minutes later with the news that the next train wouldn't come until Monday morning, and that if they wanted to make it capable of pushing not one but two time machines, they were going to have a long stretch of work up ahead.

That news, of course, didn't make the time travelers especially happy, but they all realized that it was unavoidable to a certain extent. Doc subsequently proposed the track leading up to Shonash Ravine as a location, and he, Chris and Mike went out there to check it out. There, they found a new problem – there was no bridge, and it wouldn't be finished until 1887.

At the sight, Mike hesitated for a while, and then turned towards his father and their friend. "I know that if we get the cars back to the future before we hit the edge of the ravine, none of this will matter," he said, "but are you sure we should risk it? I mean, what if something goes wrong… and it might not even be possible to get the time machines up to eighty-eight before plunging into the ravine."

"It might not," Doc admitted, "but that's a matter we'll have to calculate, and quite frankly, a risk we might have to take. As you noticed before, we don't have many short-term options, and Buford Tannen is still on the loose as well. If we get the fire in the train's engine hot enough, acceleration should occur at a sufficiently fast pace to narrowly get us back to the future with two DeLoreans and the remaining gasoline. Of course, this will have to be calculated precisely, not only for if it is possible, but how the resources we have will be deployed best."

"Of course" Mike deadpanned.

His father looked insulted. "Mike, all science comes with its risks. I agree with Emmett that this is our best option, and unless you've got any other idea, which you probably don't given all the thinking we did about it yesterday, we have to take it. Therefore, what we have to do to make sure, to the best of our capabilities, that nothing will go wrong, is plan. Plan to the utmost detail. Didn't Marty and Calvin tell you about all the work Emmett and I did when we had to help them get home from 1955? Of course, only Emmett got Marty _home_ , while I got Calvin to our 1985… but that's really beside the point. And it may not even have been the exact Calvin we know either due to the complexities of inter-dimensional travel, but never mind that."

Mike sighed. "I guess so, Dad. I just figured that, you know, it sounds really risky. Isn't there another track we can try this on?"

"Do you know of any?" Doc challenged him.

"No…"

"Then there isn't." Emmett Brown sighed, pacing up and down. "We just have to take everything into account. We will need to load the time machine onto the track as close to the switch as possible, and of course, we need to get sufficient combustion materials for the engine. That, however, shouldn't be a problem."

"I made an experiment with Calvin a few days ago when we were trying to resolve our lack of gas in the DeLorean" Chris explained. "It's basically our own version of Presto Logs. They involve organic material which is chemically treated to burn hotter and longer, thus making the train go faster. I'm sure we could whip up a few for the train's engine, and that should be able to get us home on this particular stretch. Of course, in our calculations, we'll need to take our individual weight into account, as there are after all six of us."

"Of course" Mike echoed. "Do you think those logs are safe?"

"I would guess they are, yes" Doc replied. "Either way, Mike, I don't think we could or should go back now. We have just three days to go until Tannen shoots your father, Calvin and me, and there isn't any possibility that we might be able to create another plan in time for us to get back home by Monday. So, unless you have any suggestions, this stunt, dangerous as it might sound, is our best bet. I don't want to go on the run and have to watch out for Buford Tannen everywhere we go while simultaneously attempting to get the cars up to eighty-eight. For better or for worse, this is what we'll do, and we will stick to it."

ooooooo

After returning home, the three time travelers went off to work on getting themselves home. One group under Doc was working towards a model of Monday's plan; after all, with so much riding on their journey home, they couldn't afford to leave anyone unaware of exactly what would happen. The other group worked on the presto logs, so that by the evening three of them were ready for use. Of course, they weren't incredibly easy to create, and they did need a substantial amount of chemical material, so that fact significantly slowed down the work process. Nevertheless, they were done eventually. Chris and Doc also started brainstorming the details of their plan, and eventually found that though it possessed a certain risk, it was quite possible for them to succeed.

That evening turned into a short one as they were all relatively tired from the day's events. They were out of lots of food sorts anyway, as Chris and Doc hadn't bought new groceries or anything for more than a few days in advance, being confident that they would soon be taken out of the past. Calvin had argued with them about the issue, and now saw himself be proven right as they were indeed short of a full meal. Nevertheless, they continued to muddle through just fine, so there was little to be worried about.

While the evening didn't end very late, the next morning didn't begin very late either, as roughly near 7:30 Doc and Chris were at Calvin's bed, rousing the poor boy. His twin brother appeared to be just as tired as he was, and yet they eventually decided to spare a few minutes for the model their friends had set up. When they did, though, they were fairly impressed.

It was, of course, an amazing piece of work. Not incomparable to what Doc had built on his own in 1955, and with less tools at their disposal, Doc and Chris had created a model railroad, several miniature trees next to them, shacks, sheds, signs, and even a windmill. All had been colored, where that wasn't yet the case already, in its natural colors. This, of course, fell into irony when Doc and Chris started falling over themselves in explaining that they hadn't built it to scale or anything so it really wasn't that much of an effort.

Marty eventually rolled his eyes, good-naturedly. "It's fine, Doc, Chris" he assured his friends. "It's a great piece of work, and in any case it does the trick."

"Yeah" Ann chimed in, apparently genuinely impressed for once. "I don't think I could have created something like this. Just look at all the details you put in there! I wouldn't know any way to reproduce this."

"Thank you, thank you" Doc replied. "We only put a few hours into this, though, with only a few unnecessary refinements. But anyway… which of us should demonstrate the railroad? You, Chris?"

"All right" the other inventor replied. He put the train down on the spur at the station. "As you can see, here we've got the train about to pull out of the station. Here," with that he referred to a stretch of spur on the other side of what looked on the map like a fortress of some sorts, "we'll put the DeLoreans tomorrow, making sure that nothing will be harmed – which will be formidable task of its own. Then Monday morning, we all board the train. Roughly at Coyote Pass we will head upfront, seize control of the mechanic's area by pulling guns at him, and then we push the cars up with the locomotive. It couldn't be simpler."

"Simply pulling guns at him?" Calvin repeated. "Are you sure?"

"I know, it might alter history, and there are accidents possible with guns" Doc agreed. "However, as I told Mike yesterday, we really didn't have another option available until after Monday, and that's no option for various reasons. Thus, I am afraid you are stuck with our train plan, and that involves the hijacking of the locomotive and leaving so many people stranded… I might want to go into the station sometime before we leave and warn the staff to have a spare train ready. Of course, that would be casting suspicion, and even though we're planning to leave this era, it's better to be safe than sorry. We have masks, too, so we can hide ourselves using them if all goes wrong."

"It's probably necessary" Mike chimed in, softly. "Not wise, perhaps, not right… but necessary. We have to do it to get home, and we really need to go there."

"You're right, you're right" Calvin agreed. "So, what's next?"

Chris practically beamed at the question. "Ah, watch!" he exclaimed, pulling a lever which caused the train to start rolling over the rail track. "Train coming up at the switch track… throw the switch… push up the DeLoreans…. Pushing the DeLoreans up… up to eighty-eight…" In the latter lines, he attempted to get over to the end of the track, but because he narrowly didn't as the others were all standing in his way, the toy DeLoreans both fell down on a pillow, the train following immediately thereafter.

"Now that's instilling us with confidence" Ann remarked.

Doc frowned at her. "This was a minor, controllable mishap, one that obviously wouldn't be replicated in real life. We have calculated the fuel necessary for pushing both vehicles and the amount we have, counting both the Presto Logs and the regular fuel left in the tanks, and we think it's sufficient to get us to eighty-eight before we hit the edge of the ravine, provided we place the DeLoreans extremely close to the switchtrack. Now that will be a nuisance as well, considering how close the wagons will be, but it will presumably turn out fine."

"Perhaps we should just put the cars on the track before the switch" Marty suggested. "The engineer will see there are strange cars on the track, stop the train, and in the confusion we'll seize control of the locomotive."

"Possible" Chris agreed. "Possible, but too risky, and too unnecessarily complicated in my opinion. I'm sorry, Marty, but I'm afraid that we will have to put it further down the track… and take the risks. We can reasonably presume we will hit eighty-eight before the end of track sign, though, and there might be a narrow margin of error there as well."

"Yeah, I guess you're right" Marty said. "But boy, we will never come up with a really easy plan, will we? First that scheme with getting us home through the lightning bolt at the clock tower, then the ones in the future, and in the world you came from… anything goes wrong and we would have been toast."

"Not really, because things did go wrong, and we pulled out fine" Doc pointed out. "In 1955, the DeLorean stalled for a while, and the cables weren't cooperating with me either." Chris nodded at that, recalling his own memory of the incident – which was after all the same – all too well. "And in the future, there was the issue of Jennifer showing up and having to be knocked out, and in turn your son appearing earlier than intended. Everything did turn out fine in the end. Finally, we had various mishaps in the alternate world as well, and Chris, Mike, Calvin and Ann must have had many more. It wasn't easy, but we managed to pull through and survive it all."

"All right, you made your point" Calvin said. "Marty's just saying that the plan we've got sounds pretty risky. But I suppose life would be boring without risk."

"That is very true" Ann agreed. "But also very discomforting. And even if everything turns out fine and we all make it back to the future – which, I would think, is far from a given either in such complex time travel situations with multiple cars – then we still have to get the cars off the track."

As the others pondered that and Doc was about to make a comment, presumably scaling that issue down to size as well, there was the distinct sound of a knock on the door. Doc walked over to tell the person at the door off, while Marty wondered who it could be – after all, Calvin had told him the blacksmith stable didn't receive that many customers, and they had put out a sign saying that they were closed for a few hours. That left personal acquaintances, which in this time period limited itself to Buford Tannen (who was hardly an acquaintance, but who probably wouldn't bother to follow the instructions the sign gave him), the McFlys, or…

"Emmett?"

"It's Clara!" Doc hissed, nearly panicking. "I – we – quick, let's cover the DeLoreans!"

"Clara" Calvin muttered, under his breath. "Just _perfect_." Marty had to agree with the sentiments – he didn't know Susan's ancestor yet after having only seen her for one day, and he was not even acquainted with the ravine that bore her name in the realities his friends were from, but nevertheless he _was_ familiar with Doc Brown, and if he would act anything like how Chris normally acted around Susan, they were in deep trouble.

After they put some blankets and boxes on the DeLoreans, with Doc constantly keeping post at the door to ensure Clara wouldn't come in until they were ready, the stable finally opened.

"Sorry we took so long" the inventor apologized. "We were just… playing. With some model railroad."

Clara nodded. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything…"

"You aren't, don't worry" Doc cut in again, before either of the others could say anything. It wasn't, though, as if the others had anything to say – Marty, Calvin and Ann were just watching the scene with a wry look on their faces, while Chris and Mike were gaping at this woman who resembled Susan so much. "As I said, we were toying with something minor."

"I see," Clara replied. "Well, Emmett, I was just walking through town, underneath that huge banner about tonight's town festival, and then I noticed the stable you had mentioned you worked in. I really hadn't meant to disturb you, it's just that I was in town anyway to see where the festival would be held, and I was curious where you lived."

"Well, that would be here then" Doc muttered, somewhat shy.

"That's right" Mike said, drawing Clara's attention to him. Her eyes widened as she noticed there were three boys who looked like 'Clint Eastwood', and there was another man who looked a lot like Doc. "We were just taking a break from our regular work to play with the railroad, but we might be busy later… we will have to work all day to get the job finished."

Clara blinked. "All day?" she repeated. "Surely not tonight… after all, tonight _is_ the night of the town festival. You could hardly miss such an important event."

"Well, ma'am, we're really busy right now, like Mike said," Chris began, "so I'm not sure if we can make some time for…"

"Ah yes, of course, the festival" Doc then interrupted. "I'm sure we can take some time off, as we just did. Having different surroundings will also help us, uh, clear our minds."

"So, then I'll be seeing you tonight at the festival?" Clara asked.

"You can count on it" Doc assured her.

Clara nodded. "Then I really have to go now," she said, sheepishly. "Mr. Wayne, Mr. Eastwood, Mr. Eastwood, Miss, Emmett…" The others gave her curt, nervous greetings in return, and Marty was sure Clara was aware of the eyes burning into her back as she turned to exit through the stable door. Doc stared after her for a while, but as he turned to the group he noticed that now, all eyes were focused on him.

"What?" he asked, innocently, in a way that made it somehow appear both faked and genuine.

Chris sighed. "Emmett, what is going on between you and Clara?"

The inventor blinked. "Nothing" he replied, sounding just as innocent. "She was just coming by to see where our shop was, after I'd told her about it yesterday, and then she reminded me of the festival. It is important to take some time off, after all, and we did go in the original timeline, the one Marty came from. Additionally, we wouldn't want to miss such an important event in Hill Valley's history."

"Nonsense" Chris snapped, sounding slightly frustrated. "Emmett, I know you very well – I _am_ you."

"From an alternate timeline" the local inventor corrected him. "An alternate _dimension_ even, as we found out recently."

"Even so." Chris paced up and down somewhat before returning to look at Emmett. "I know what I felt for Susan, and Clara is a lot like her. You can't start, or even consider, a relationship with Clara, not in 1885. I know that must hurt and I am well aware what love at first sight feels like, it's just that…"

"Nonsense" Doc now said. "I am well aware that Clara looks like Susan, and of course I am slightly attracted to her – how couldn't I be. Yet, I have no inclination of starting a relationship with a woman I met less than twenty-four hours ago, in a time period so far from my own, with all the danger to the space-time continuum that it would entail! My only goal is to go back to the future with you."

"Well, that's good to hear" Chris replied, softer. "I was getting worried that meeting Clara would give you crazy ideas. She might or might not yet fall into the ravine, and unless we have concrete evidence of the time she fell, I think we are able not to act against it. We cannot save everybody when we go back in time… and anyway, perhaps we have already saved miss Clayton's life and we're just unaware of it."

"Perhaps" Doc repeated, also softer. "Chris… I know that Clara Clayton is a woman we – I don't think it's just me alone – are personally invested in because you are married to her indirect descendant. However, that doesn't mean that we can or should save her. Perhaps we already have, perhaps we haven't, we will find out in due time, but I fully agree that we shouldn't make active moves towards saving her from her fate as long as the exact nature of that fate remains unclear to us. That is the unfortunate truth of time travel."

"Well-spoken, Doc" Mike agreed. Marty blinked at his counterpart speaking up – after all, Mike, being Chris and Susan's adopted son, would also be heavily inclined to save Clara, and thus he hadn't expected him to defend that course. "We can't save everyone, not here in 1885, not back home, not in any time period. If we tried to save anyone who died a non-natural death in world history, the task would cost us a year and we'd be erased – well, I suppose we might not, but you might – before the week or even the day was out. Heck, we, uh, we alternates still might end up erased anyway if you guys never get born – after all, without you, who would come to save us from the clutches of Biff Tannen and bring us to this dimension?"

"That's a very good question, Mike" Chris complimented. "I hadn't thought about it that way yet, but you're right. I suppose that some sort of temporal immunity might still persist, because we as natives of a different dimension theoretically shouldn't be affected by what happens in this world… but we could be catapulted back to our world of origin, doomed to die at the clutches of Biff Tannen there. Then again, since our world of origin was created by time travel from this dimension, or at least, that's the working hypothesis, we might yet get erased anyway. We would really require some more theoretical work on that before coming to a definite conclusion… what do you think, Emmett?"

Before her friend could speak up, Ann intervened. "As interesting as this might be, guys, I don't think you should discuss theoretical problems here" she said. "There's no one suggesting that we go jumping around the space-time continuum saving people, so the point is moot for now. I think our concern should be getting us all home." She looked at Doc with the skepticism obvious on her face. "But you really agreed with that festival plan to get us some rest?"

"Mostly, yes" Doc replied. "We need rest, especially after the work we've already done and need to do this afternoon, and in advance for the following days… _day_ , rather. And of course being at this founding moment in the history of Hill Valley fascinates me."

"I'll agree with him there, Ann" Marty spoke up. "There's no way I could be here around that clock, given our history with it, and not attend the moment when it was started. If we have to be stuck here for a while, then at least we should have some fun. And this is way cool." Calvin nodded in agreement.

"Fine" Ann finally agreed. "But don't look at me if things start getting out of hand."

As she turned away, Marty shrugged without worry. They were just going to a town festival, after all – besides Doc having another friendly chat with Clara, what could go wrong there? Nothing, could it?

He soon turned out to be very, very wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own BTTF.**

 _Author's Note:_ New chapter, featuring a new character too. Please review!

 **Chapter Nine**

Saturday, September 5, 1885  
7:59 PM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

"Ladies aaaand gentlemen!" The characteristic voice of Mayor Hubert boomed over the square in front of the Courthouse, the one which would see a grassy field in 1955 and a parking lot in their home time. "As maaayor of Hill Valley… it gives me _great_ _plea_ sure! To dedicate this clock… to the people of Hill County! May it _stand_ for all time! Tell me when, gentlemen!"

Calvin joined without hesitation as the entire crowd gathered began to count down from three to zero. When they hit the final second, the mayor started the clock and the famous 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' started playing. Fireworks were launched behind him. "Let the festivities begin!" he shouted, being barely audible over the noise that had been unleashed. Calvin stared at it with some bafflement, having not expected such an atmosphere of joy after how comparatively dull he had found 1955. As he looked to his side, he could guess Marty was thinking the same thing.

"It is fitting, you know, that we are here to witness this" Doc was saying. "With the exception of Ann and Mike, all of us have quite the history with that clock."

"True – and even I think it's cool to see the start when I missed the end" Ann replied with a chuckle. She was wearing a blue-greenish contemporary dress, and despite her fitting right in with the 1880s crowd (well, there were a few quirks here and there, such as the outspoken way in which she couldn't help but wear her hair, and the length of the dress) Calvin thought she looked very pretty. The moment he thought that, though, he remembered their agreement of two days before, and almost in shame he turned his eyes away. He wouldn't try to flirt with Ann. His objective was to find someone else.

Of course, if he wanted to find someone who wasn't a Jennifer clone, searching her in an 1880s crowd wasn't the best idea either. What with Doc already having expressed interest with Clara – and they all hoped so hard it would remain limited to interest – they couldn't have Calvin Arthur McFly becoming enthralled with a 19th Century young lady as well.

"Too bad I didn't bring my camera" Marty then joked. "Just when I thought we'd prepared for everything, and now this comes up and…"

He paused, having noticed a flash in the distance. As Calvin looked over he saw a man using an old-fashioned photo camera to take black-and-white pictures. The group exchanged glances. Chris eventually grinned. "Anyone care for a picture?" he asked.

"Would we all fit?" Mike wondered. "There are six of us… might be a little too many for one photograph. And does it cost anything? Do you even still have any contemporary money?"

"Certainly" his father replied. "But it appears that you only have to pay if you take the photograph along… which we'd better do anyway, considering that it shouldn't stick around just like the original version, which had Emmett, Calvin and me on it."

"That's right!" Mike exclaimed, withdrawing the picture in question from his pocket. "Now we pretty much have to replicate the picture and see what happens to the original one. I'm still not sure whether all six of us should go at once, though."

"We could always try" Marty said, shrugging. "If he tells us no, we can have two pictures. I would think Doc and Chris still have enough money, and it's not like we could take too many of it with us or use it in the present. Best to get rid of the cash here, where it belongs."

"That's true – although as I've learned before, a briefcase of money from all kinds of time periods will often come in handy" Doc replied. "But yes, let's try to get a photograph taken."

As it turned out, it was necessary for them to get two pictures, and getting the photographs taken wound up using quite some of their available money. That, of course, was partly a good thing, although Calvin wondered when they'd find time to pick up the pictures, as there was quite some preparation work left to go through for their return to the future, and the photographs might take some time to develop. And of course, they could hardly leave them behind. He supposed that Doc or Chris might be able to find a way, though, or else they wouldn't have consented to this plan in the first place.

Just after getting the pictures taken, which took some more time than it could have because the time travelers were quipping silly comments to each other, the music started up… and it was surprisingly good. Calvin and Marty exchanged glances. "That's pretty cool music" the latter eventually admitted.

"Yeah, it's got a beat and you can dance to it!" the former agreed.

Marty smirked. "If only I could! If Jennifer was here, then we…" He suddenly stopped. "Oh, uh, sorry Cal. Didn't intend to remind you of that."

"No, it's all right" Calvin replied. He had determined not to let his strange feelings dominate the evening for him, and thus he would try his best not to think about Jennifer, or about Ann (at least not in a romantic way – with her being around, it was inevitable that he'd give her some thoughts). That shouldn't be too hard – it was a festival, after all, and there were plenty of other things to think about.

Just then, he overheard a salesman triumphing his "brand new Colt Peacemakers" to the skies, proving his point. Calvin and the others turned to watch the demonstration, looking on with some amusement as the salesman was boasting about his fine product.

The salesman, in turn, noticed the group as well and smiled. "Well, gentlemen, does any one of you want to give it a try?"

"Uh, no, thanks" Mike replied.

"What's wrong, are you afraid?" the salesman asked. "Even a baby can handle this weapon without incidents and surely neither of you are afraid of doing something a baby can do."

The three had started frowning at the man's talk of being afraid of something – after all, the chicken problem both Marty and Mike had coped with was still fresh in their minds, and thus getting called a coward wasn't the best way to get any of them to do something, not anymore. Even so, Calvin had to admit that he was intrigued. "I'll do it" he said, stepping forwards.

The salesman beamed. "Very good, young man" he replied. "Now you just ease this hammer back there and aim it real smoothly" he told Calvin, putting the gun into the teen's left hand. The teen tried to take it into his right, but the salesman shook his head and swapped the hand again. "No, just like this and aim it _real_ smooth."

As Calvin did what he was supposed to do, he got the awkward feeling creeping up to him that he was just doing this to impress Ann… which, of course, he wasn't. He was trying not to impress her, after all, to stay away from her and try to start something new. That wasn't ever going to work this way. Instead, he tried to focus on his gun and pulled the trigger… causing the bullet to shoot high into the sky, miles off the mark.

As the salesman burst out laughing, Calvin felt ridiculed – although at least this way he wouldn't have to be worried about impressing Ann. "Listen, can I try this again?" he asked the salesman, who agreed between chortles of manic laughter.

Now, Calvin took the gun into his right hand, easily taking the weapon and placing his fingers correctly before aiming carefully. The first shot was right on target, knocking the wooden figure over. The second was as well, as was the third, and with the fourth the figure slowly creaked backwards before falling anyway. Satisfied, Calvin smugly handed the gun back to the salesman, who was staring at him with sheer disbelief in his eyes.

"Tell me one thing," the man muttered, "where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

Calvin smiled. "7-11" he replied truthfully, before turning back to the rest of the group.

As it turned out, all of them had been watching his performance, and Marty and Mike especially seemed to be impressed – although at least Marty could probably have done the same thing just as easily. Ann, however, was frowning, and now that the shooting was over she took her chance to speak up. "Where did Doc go?"

It was a good question, for as they looked around, Doc was nowhere to be seen. Calvin scanned the immediate area around him, then looked towards the stage, then to the side, further and further… until he suddenly noticed him. From the soft gasp he was hearing from Chris to his left, the older man had noticed his counterpart as well. Doc was, perhaps unsurprisingly, standing next to Clara Clayton, holding arms with her, and as the music picked up again, they started dancing.

The other five time travelers stared in amazement. "The Doc can dance?" Marty said, baffled.

"Well, of course!" Chris replied. "When we were young, we – I – got several dance lessons as it was standard for a youth in that period to learn such things. I rarely ever got to practice what I had been taught because I never really dated a girl, but I suppose it is like riding a bike or swimming in being one of those things you never forget. Susan and I have taken up the practice again, though rarely… maybe we should do it more often."

"I think that's hardly the matter right now, Chris" Ann said, worried. "If Doc is dancing with _Clara_ …"

"I know, I know" the inventor muttered. "It appears that this relationship might indeed be more serious than he wanted us to believe – than he might have wanted himself to believe. I think we're going to have to have a long talk once Emmett finishes this dance." That said, he paced over to where his counterpart was still dancing happily, and leaned in the bushes, waiting for his moment.

That left just the four teenagers, who awkwardly exchanged glances. "I think I'm going to have a look around here" Mike finally announced. "See if there is anyone around that we know the descendants of, perhaps get some food… who's with me?"

"I guess" Marty agreed. Ann nodded.

Calvin, however, shook his head. "That's all very well and good, but I've met a lot of those people already, and I don't think the food will be anything to write home about, given my experiences here. I'm going for a walk first."

Mike stared at him, and then shrugged. "Suit yourself" he simply said, before walking off. Marty and Ann followed him.

Calvin stared after them for a brief seconds before allowing himself to wander off, away from the crowd, looking for time and space to think. As much as he hated the fact that these moments of quiet reminded him of the reasons he was getting stressed out, he liked being away from his friends for a while. He felt as if he was being a bit of a burden on them, having been the cause that stranded them in 1885, and even though it looked like all of them were enjoying themselves now, they weren't out of the woods by a long shot.

The seventeen-year-old shivered. Enough of those negative thoughts, he was going to try to stay optimistic. Things would turn out all right, and he wasn't going to die. Trying to distract himself, he instead looked up into the sky. The stars were shining brightly, and Calvin found himself wondering which ones his Dad had all written stories about. There were at least ten of them, with corresponding aliens, each wackier than the other.

The teen snickered. He could hardly berate George McFly for writing unrealistic science-fiction literature, not now that he had developed some kind of interest in his Dad's work. The loss of his identity when he had returned to 1985 and the fact that Mike was clearly aiming to be a scientist had been reason enough for him to contemplate another career, as although he remained interested in music, building it all up again without a band sounded like too much of an effort. Instead, he had taken an interest in George's writings, and things had sort of spiraled out of control a few days before his first erasure incident when his Dad had suggested writing a book about time travel, inspired on his sons' adventures. Calvin had given him some advice, then had dragged in more ideas, even through the week when he had been in danger of erasure, until finally two days before going back to 1 BC George had proclaimed in semi-serious frustration that his son might as well write the book himself.

It had been meant as a joke, but ever since Calvin's return to 1885 he had been beginning to take it ever more seriously. He already had main characters, and a basic plot, and the premise was interesting, original, but deviating too much from his Dad's normal type of work for George McFly to ever write it. So why couldn't he try it? Pen a story – pen some short stories at least to begin with? It would have to wait until he returned to 1985 and had a typewriter, but he was venting his ideas here in 1885, and had already collected three pages filled with notes about what he wanted to happen in the tale.

Just then, Calvin heard a rustling behind him that suddenly brought him back to the present. He stood still, tensed, and his heartbeat started going louder. He wasn't ordinarily afraid of the dark, but this _was_ 1885\. He cast a quick look towards the dance floor, from which he had become separated by some fifty yards, and turned around to face whoever had been following him.

That person, unexpectedly, was not an aggressive lout such as Buford Tannen. It wasn't even a man, or a woman. It was… a girl, really. His age, perhaps a year or two older, Calvin couldn't really tell – she might just as well have been up to a year younger with the different clothing and makeup styles of the 19th Century. She was wearing a neat purple dress which kind of reminded him of his teenaged mother's in that it showed quite some cleavage. It wasn't sleeveless, but at her legs it was quite short, not even over the knee, which would have been unusual for the time period alone but especially for September. The fact that he seemed to recall having seen her around at the Palace Saloon winking at customers gave him the final puzzle piece to what this person was.

Nevertheless, he still didn't know _who_ she was, and why she was following him, and the best way to get to know that was to simply ask her. "Who are you?" he finally settled on.

"I'm Lauren" the girl replied, softly, her light brown eyes blinking. "I saw you at the gun demonstration. That was a very impressive job you did there."

Calvin shrugged. "It wasn't that hard once you got the hang of it" he replied truthfully.

An awkward silence fell once more. Calvin wondered if he should say something, or whether she was going to do that. As he looked closer, he did notice that she was, despite her occupation, a woman he might not mind spending some time with. Her face was thin, her hair fairly long like Jennifer's, like with the eyes a lighter brown than Jennifer's was, almost blonde. All in all, she was fairly attractive.

 _Hold off on that,_ his mind then told him. _You know Doc is having trouble with dating Clara here in the past, and you shouldn't get involved with someone here too. There are plenty of nice girls to date in 1985, and that's much safer than getting involved with a… a p… a prostitute whom you would have to take home. And besides, with that whole erasing from existence thing, this is hardly the best time to go look for a girl._

All of those thoughts were true – but that didn't stop Calvin from kindly smiling at the girl, and deciding that one conversation surely couldn't do any harm. "So, you came to watch the festivities?" he asked, awkwardly.

Lauren nodded. "I'd been looking forwards to it for weeks. The town is getting a new clock and courthouse, and that is a great event in Hill Valley's history, a great one to witness. And of course, I liked the idea of taking a break from the daily routine, getting something luxury to eat, and meeting new people here." She frowned. "You haven't lived in Hill Valley for very long, have you?"

Calvin saw no reason to lie… not to lie on that part of the story, at least. "That's right" he confirmed. "We came here a few weeks ago. My uncles are travelling blacksmiths and inventors, but our experimental wagon broke down and now we have to stay in Hill Valley while it's getting repaired, and well, we rather liked it here, so we didn't hurry to get out again." The thought then occurred to him that he hadn't yet mentioned his name. "I'm Clint Eastwood, by the way. We're living at the livery stable… do you know it?"

Lauren nodded again. "Oh, certainly. I have gone there on occasion when my…," she cast her eyes down, "my boss needs some pliers. Not recently, though."

Calvin nodded in return, awkwardly. "You work at the saloon, don't you?" he asked, wondering whether to probe deeper into what was clearly an embarrassing subject, but at the same time being curious and wanting to comfort her if she was depressed about it.

In return, Lauren's face colored somewhat redder, but if she was deeply embarrassed she didn't show, and instead she stared him straight into the eye. "I do" she replied. "It's not great work – it is terrible work – but it pays good money, and we need that these days."

If curiosity was what had killed the cat, Calvin would already have been dead (even though, admittedly, he was not a cat). "You're… not too well off, then?" he asked, wondering how to phrase this question which was likely going to sound awkward no matter what he did.

Lauren nodded, staring at the ground in-between them. "That's right. We try to get around, but… it's difficult." She blushed. "I'd really prefer not to talk about that right now."

"That's all right" Calvin replied, understanding that perfectly well. "Wouldn't you… want to go back to the dance, then? To the festivities, I mean" he hastily corrected.

In response, Lauren gave him a smile that could be interpreted as charming. "All right" she replied. "Are you going as well? Perhaps we can talk some more out there, master Eastwood."

"Call me Clint" Calvin instantly corrected. "And yes, I would like… er, that would be all right with me."

Lauren gave him a more mysterious smile this time and they walked back to the dance, Calvin awkwardly wondering what he should do. This was the first serious encounter he had had with a girl since the abrupt end to his relationship with Jennifer, and it probably wasn't a good thing to delve any deeper into it, especially since this was 1885 and he didn't belong here. And it wasn't like there were no attractive girls at home. Why, even at his own high school he could probably find several. And yet…

 _We're just talking,_ he stubbornly told himself. _There's no way I'd get myself involved with a Wild West hooker, especially in my condition. The mere thought is insane. Just because she's good-looking doesn't mean I have to avoid spending time with her – and in any case, I could test out some of the stuff Ann and I talked about a few days ago._

With that conviction, he turned to Lauren as they arrived at the dance, where an enthusiastic song was just picking up. Calvin looked at her nervously, as he saw her head was nodding along with the music. "Nice song" he awkwardly commented.

Lauren blinked. "Yes, it is" she agreed. "Lovely dancing song, or so it seems." She looked out at all the pairs across the dance floor, who were moving along with the melody. Calvin couldn't spot any of his friends at the moment, but he figured that they were still around somewhere.

"Makes me wish I had somebody to dance to it with."

This time, it was Calvin who blinked, and stared at Lauren in disbelief. The girl grinned at the look on his face, but otherwise said nothing – her gestures had made it clear enough what she expected from him. He nervously cleared his throat, staring at her hair, her eyes… _It's just one dance. Dances aren't even romantic. And the others will be here before you know it, so if you have a chance to enjoy yourself and then blow it…_

Stuttering, the teen spoke. "Would you mind… I mean… could I… could I be of service to you on that?" he asked her.

Lauren looked into his eyes. "I'd appreciate that a lot" she whispered, gently taking his hands in hers and slowly moving up and down the part of the dance floor they were at, which was a rather extreme corner, making them less compelled to follow the rhythm of the main group. Nevertheless, Calvin felt Lauren was gradually increasing the pace as they continued to dance. She smiled at him, the moonlight highlighting her features, and he blushed slightly. Her hands felt strangely cold, though – then again, it was rather cold out here, and he had been doing hard work which had heated his hands all day.

The dance picked up speed and soon Calvin really began to enjoy himself. Before he knew it, they were dancing and laughing along with the other couples. Then, though, the music stopped, and a rather softer song picked up.

As he continued to dance, Calvin felt increasingly awkward. This was, presumably, a love song, and the looks in Lauren's eyes indicated her feelings with regards to that. Although part of him wasn't unnerved by her affections, the other was inclined to bolt and go off running home.

However, as he was mulling that, the inevitable finally happened – Calvin stumbled over his feet. Although he wasn't an incompetent dancer, like he had expected Doc to be before being proven so gloriously wrong, he wasn't an expert either, and this stuff tended to embarrass him on nights out with Jennifer in the old timeline as well. Much more so now, with him having had so little experience ever since. Anyway, Calvin stumbled, accidentally pushed into Lauren, and caused her to fall over. Seeing what was happening, the teen came to his senses and tightly grabbed her waist just in time. The resulting pose, however, left Lauren leaning backwards and with their faces just one feet away from each other.

On Lauren's face, although shock was still prevalent, a smile formed. Rather than allowing Calvin to help her up, she moved forwards on her own and clung her arms tightly around the teen's shoulder. Then, her face turned to his, her light brown eyes seeming to spark with joy. Calvin tried to speak up, or get off, but remained frozen in place as Lauren gently took hold of both his cheeks and leaned forward to…

BANG!

In all fairness, the music stopping and loud shouting that had been going on for roughly fifteen seconds before that moment should have tipped Calvin and Lauren off that something was going on, but it hadn't, presumably because they were… otherwise distracted. A gunshot, however, is quite hard to ignore. The moment was broken, and Calvin quickly helped Lauren get back to her feet before releasing her and heading over to the site of the blast. He directed a few looks over his shoulder to see if his new friend was following him. She was.

On such a small platform, the site of the blast was relatively near, and as Calvin moved closer he could indeed see who had been the intended victim of the gunshot – Doc Brown himself. The inventor was standing there with Clara Clayton, staring at his hat which appeared to have a hole in it. Buford Tannen was there as well holding a gun, and it took little effort to put two and two together. The final piece of the puzzle was provided when Marty stepped forwards to face the outlaw.

"Lighten up, jerk!"

Buford and his gang members, clearly baffled, exchanged looks. "Mighty strong words, runt!" the gunslinger finally settled on. "Are you man enough to back 'em up with more than just a pie plate?"

"Calvin!" a voice to the teen's left then hissed. Calvin looked up to see Mike, Ann and Chris standing near, all with concerned looks on their faces. In the background of the scene, Doc was helping Clara back up from the sitting position she was in. "What's going on?" he wondered.

Mike started to answer, but was interrupted by Marty replying to Buford. "Just leave my friends alone."

Buford stared at him. "What's wrong dude, you yellow?"

The word made Calvin's heart freeze, and a look to the side indicated that it did the same to the others. Marty, too, hesitated, but eventually turned around. "No, I'm not. I'm just not stupid."

"Ah!" the outlaw bristled. "So you know you can't beat me in a _fair_ fight, don't you, you gutless yellow pie-slinger?"

Marty shrugged. "Maybe" he allowed, walking off to the rest of their group.

Buford snarled at him. "Now you listen to me good, runt, if you won't fight me after you just challenged and humiliated me like that, then don't think I'm off your tracks. You will fight me, and if you won't, I'll hunt you down and shoot you down like a duck."

Marty frowned, as did one of Buford's gang members. "It's dog, Buford" he corrected his commander. "You shoot him down like a dog."

There was nervous laughter in the crowd, and the look on Buford's face appeared to be a cross between anger and humiliation at that. Calvin was already beginning to feel nervous at what he might be about to do to Marty when Marshall Strickland suddenly stepped forwards. "All right, now break it up, what's all this about! You causing trouble here, Tannen?"

Buford stopped in his march towards Marty to face the sheriff, continuing to speak in a slightly more pleasant tone. "No trouble, Marshall. Just a personal matter between me, and this _runt._ " That last word was spoken with such contempt that it could be heard from a mile away. "Nothing that concerns the law." The way he was speaking suddenly reminded Calvin of how vice-principal Strickland had intervened to stop him and Biff from fighting back in 1955, and how Biff had backed down then like Buford did now. It somehow made him feel slightly better about himself. _The Tannens might call us chicken, but it's not like they're so tough when it gets right down to it…_

Marshall Strickland seemed to be as unbelieving of Tannen's apologies as his descendant had (or would have) been. "Tonight everything concerns the law, now break it up" he said. "Any brawling, that's fifteen days in the county jail." He turned to the rest of the people who were still gathered around them. "All right folks, this is a party; come on, let's have some fun!"

The music resumed, as did the dancing, and Calvin breathed a sigh of relief as Buford, despite glaring at Marty throughout, simply walked off. "Well, he's gone" he muttered, turning to Lauren. She was still standing next to him, albeit with an unreadable expression on her face.

"He is" she agreed, which of course wasn't very meaningful. "What happened between your friends out here?"

"I don't know" Calvin replied, truthfully. "Mike, what just happened here? How did Do-Emmett get involved with Buford again?"

The other teen shrugged. "I don't know the exact details, as Ann and Mar-Lewis were with me at the food stand" he said, keeping an eye on Lauren. "I did wander off at some point, though, so I saw everything happening but I think I was just too frozen on the spot to do much. You know I'm not good with guns."

"I know" Calvin replied, remembering his own lack of comfort with the matter after the Libyans had tried to murder Doc in the Lone Pine Mall parking lot. He would have been even more frozen than his counterpart had been. "What happened next?"

"Uh, John was monitoring Emmett, when suddenly he got caught by Buford Tannen" Mike explained. "I believe John was about to warn him, but Emmett was distracted by Clara and it was too late. Then, he tried to save Emmett and was stopped, and then Buford forced Clara to dance with him, and at that point I came to my senses and ran over to get M- _Lewis_ and Ann. When I got there, however, the music had already stopped, and Buford was aiming a gun at Emmett – and then Lewis stepped forwards, swung a pie plate at the gun and knocked the shot clear off course!"

"That's awesome!" Calvin exclaimed.

"What's awesome?" Lauren asked.

Calvin and Mike stared at each other, unsure how to explain this to the 19th Century girl. "It's just a term in use in our family" Calvin lied, knowing as he did so that the explanation was rather weak. "Lauren, I'm sorry, but I have to go…"

"I understand, Clint" Lauren replied, smiling warmly at him. "I'll see you later." She impulsively hugged him, and then walked off. Calvin and Mike stared after her, and the latter started smirking as they walked back to the others. "Got some female company, have we?"

"Yes, and it's not Ann" Calvin teased back. "And don't even think I'm getting as involved with her as Doc has with Clara. That's something way different. I know this is hardly the right time to start a relationship."

"I wasn't about to claim that there was a resemblance" Mike said. "It's just that, well, if Doc does so, one might as well expect that everyone turns out to have random crushes here." He then looked around with some surprise, and as Calvin did the same he could see why his counterpart was so stunned. The subject of their conversation had apparently wandered off, for only Chris was left. "Where did the others go?" Mike asked.

"Emmett said he needed to take Clara home" Chris said, wryly. "Personally, I had my doubts about the whole story, but it _is_ really unsafe out here in this era, and I really needed to keep my eye on Marty too, as with all the people out here praising him for his heroic stunt against Tannen, he was getting distracted, so I decided to just let Emmett go." He frowned. "And now that I haven't been paying attention, it appears that Marty and Ann have gone off too."

"Can you see where they've gone?" Calvin asked. "You _are_ taller than we are…"

Chris strained his neck to look over the terrain as well as he could. "Not there, not there, not… ah, there they are… Great Scott, they're talking to Seamus and Maggie McFly! Don't those kids know anything about responsibility?"

"It is quite a temptation, you'll have to admit" Mike replied. "I fully agree with you that we shouldn't interact with them when we can avoid it, Dad, but I can understand why Marty and Ann are tempted."

"Yeah" Calvin chimed in. "I would have been too, if I hadn't met them several times already. And I can definitely imagine that Marty is overwhelmed by all the attention he's getting."

"Point" Chris grumpily conceded. "Still, Ann at least should know better." He sighed, before adding: "And so should my counterpart. I really hope that whatever goes on between him and Clara doesn't end up affecting our journey in a negative way. If it does, I have half a mind to put the time machines to rest anyway when we get home, never mind my emotions about the matter."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note:_ New chapter, it's longish, and it sets up the conflict for a lot of the remainder of the story (in so far as you can say that since we've got so many subplots - Calvin's illness, Doc and Clara's romance, needing to get rid of Buford Tannen, needing to get Back to the Future, Calvin and Ann's relationship - going on). Please read and review!

 **Chapter Ten**

Sunday, September 6, 1885  
12:00 AM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

"And that crater out there in the middle north-west, the one that's there all by itself like a starburst?"

"Uh-uh?"

"That one's called Copernicus." Clara Clayton turned to Emmett Brown and giggled. "Look at me, I feel like I'm teaching school!"

"Go on, continue your lesson!" Doc encouraged, smiling at her. "I've never found lunar geography so fascinating before. You're quite knowledgeable." He was tempted to add that he'd never found a _woman_ so fascinating before, but decided against it. It might sound very forward, and even like exaggerated flattery – although he knew that it was the truth. He had never had more interest in a woman before than he had in Clara Clayton now. She was pretty, intelligent, nice, willing to spend time with him… besides the fact that she was from 1885 and their age differences he hadn't found any flaw with her yet. And that last issue had never stopped him from befriending Marty, and they were extremely close too.

Clara smiled at him. "Don't you need to go back home, Emmett?" she asked. "I don't mind you sticking around, but I don't want to bother you or your family…"

"You're not bothering me at all" Doc replied. "And I'm sure the others won't mind if I come home a little later than usual." All right, perhaps they _would_ mind, but not for reasons Clara would presume so, and he wasn't really inclined to listen to them anyway. Not right now. "I like being here, and I'm just astonished that you know all this. I wouldn't have thought that many school teachers studied astronomy."

"Most don't" Clara agreed. "As for me, though… when I was eleven I had diphtheria and had to be in quarantine for months, so my father bought this telescope and put it next to my bed so I could see everything of the window. I've been interested in the subject ever since." She sighed wistfully. "Oh Emmett, do you think we'll ever be able to… travel to the moon, the way we travel through the country in trains?"

Doc smiled knowingly at her. "Definitely, although not for another eighty-four years and not on trains" he told her. "We'll have space vehicles, capsules that sail off in rockets, devices that create giant explosions, explosions so powerful that they'll…"

"That they'll break the pull of the earth's gravity and send the projectile into outer space" Clara finished for him. Doc looked at her with surprise clear on his face, which caused her to burst into a giggle. "Emmett! I've read that book too!" As he continued to look surprised, she added: "You're quoting Jules Verne, From The Earth To The Moon!"

Of course, that's why phrasing that sort of explanation had come so natural to him – he'd read it over and over in one of his favorite books! But for Clara to recognize it… "You've read Jules Verne?" Doc whispered, amazed.

"I adore Jules Verne" Clara whispered.

"So do I!" Doc replied enthusiastically. "Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under The Sea, my absolute favorite, the first time I read that when I was a little boy I wanted to meet Captain Nemo!"

Clara chuckled. "Emmett, you're teasing me! You couldn't have read that book when you were a little boy, it was only first published ten years ago…"

"Oh yes," Doc replied, realizing that he'd made a mistake, "I meant it made me feel like a boy." He stared at her, fascinated, remembering the previous women he had been… interested in. "I never met a woman who liked Jules Verne before."

"I never ever met a man like you before" Clara whispered.

As if by themselves, their faces moved closer. Some voice at the back of Doc's head told him that he shouldn't do this, or at least slow down so that he could yet reconsider… but that voice barely registered. Their lips met in the middle, and they started to kiss. It felt so natural, and yet so utterly wonderful, to be kissed by someone who actually wanted to kiss him back, that the inventor was increasingly forgetting everything around him, past, future or present. His arms moved up her back, she returned the favor…

BANG!

The abrupt sound of a gunshot made Doc's neck hairs stand on end and it reminded him of the moment just a few hours ago, when he had almost been shot by Buford Tannen. As he broke the kiss he could see the man in question was indeed sitting on his horse nearby, surrounded by his gang. "Tannen!" Doc exclaimed.

"Brown" the outlaw growled. "I figured you were here."

The scientist straightened his back, looking Buford straight into the eye and holding Clara's hand – he could feel she was shaking. He wished, like he had at the festival, that he had Chris' gun with him, but that couldn't be helped right now. As it was, he could do nothing but proudly face his opponent. "What do you want, Tannen? Do you intend to try to kill me again?"

"It wouldn't be a matter of tryin'" Buford told him. "But no, right now I aim to get that friend of yours. And I'll need you and that filly to lure him away from those other runts."

Clara shivered, while Doc took a deep breath. "You mean you're kidnapping us?"

"Exactly." Buford raised his gun at them, while his gang got off their horses with some rope. Doc realized Clara was trying to look at him, but gave her a sigh of resignation. They were surrounded, and there was very little they could do to get away right now. They both stepped off their horses, and allowed the gang members to tie them up. Doc felt frightened, more for Clara's sake than for his own. Now all he could do was hope that Marty, once he'd find out about their kidnapping, would not do anything irrational. If he lost his best friend, he wouldn't care much about living or dying anymore.

oooooooo

Marty woke up to the sound of a cuckoo clock striking 7. He groggily opened his eyes to see the strange contraption Doc and Chris had installed making their breakfast. Too tired to move, Marty just stared at the devices for a moment, feeling amazed how his best friend(s) would always manage to create such machines even in a primitive area such as 1885.

As he looked around, he noticed that Chris and Mike were already up, talking in the center of the shop, while Ann was in the back reading a book. Calvin was still asleep, snoring calmly. Prior to him travelling through time, Marty hadn't really wanted to believe the fact that he snored, even though his parents and siblings had told him all about it. Now, however, he was faced with the living evidence. At least it wasn't all _that_ loud. Not loud enough to keep him out of his sleep, at least – although he supposed Chris and Doc would have thought of that as being fascinating, a person keeping himself out of his sleep. Marty figured that if they liked the idea so much, perhaps they could try it for themselves someday, and see how much they liked it then.

As it was, though, Doc wasn't around, or so he found out once having a closer look. Marty remembered that his friend had gone off last night with Clara to guide her home. If he hadn't returned _at all_ that night…

Well, there was one way to find out. Marty got out of the bed, yawned and stretched his arms, and then turned to his best friends. "Where did Doc go?" he asked.

Chris and Mike exchanged glances. "Technically, he didn't go anywhere that we know of" the former said. "He just hasn't returned since last night." The inventor sighed deeply. "Great Scott, I can understand his fascination for the woman, and in his situation I would likely be doing the same thing, but… can't he understand the danger he's bringing himself in…"

"Ah, come on" Marty declared. "Things can't be that bad. Sure, perhaps he forgot the time in Clara's presence… but he'll come back, and then we'll all just tell him that he shouldn't do that stuff again, and things will be fine! After all, he… is… the Doc…" The teen gulped, as he looked around the room. "All right, why are you all looking at me that way?"

"We're wondering whether you're really that naïve or whether you just pretend to be" Ann deadpanned.

"Ann!" Chris exclaimed, sternly.

"It's true!" Ann replied, defending herself. "If Marty can't see…" She sighed and turned to him, giving him a vaguely kind smile. "You may have hope, and who knows, you might turn out to be right – but that chance is very, very small. By now, I just go into an adventure presuming disaster will strike, because it will, except in the few cases where it doesn't… and even then, _some_ thing will go wrong."

"Accentuate the negative, will you?" Marty said, rolling his eyes.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Ann argued. "I can't see how, with all these horrible situations we can land in, I can do anything else than be prepared for the worst."

"Ann is right, kind of" Marty's own voice came back at him. He looked to the side and saw Calvin had woken up and had elbowed himself into a sitting position in his bed. "I hope everything will turn out fine, too, but you have to admit that when Doc has been with Clara, he's been acting goofy and unpredictable. I'm not sure we can trust him to remain clear-headed all the time."

Marty stared at his twin, unsure how to respond to what he felt to be the others ganging up on him somewhat. Then, he grinned. "You know, it's hardly a coincidence that you're agreeing with _her_ on this…"

"Shut. Up."

Marty pouted. "You have no sense of humor."

"Jokes grow old, Marty" Ann pointed out. "That one must have a beard from here to Washington by now." She turned to Chris. "Seriously, though, what do we do now?"

Chris shrugged. "I suppose we could send a scouting party to look for him, although that is more childish a measure than I want to resort to. Marty is right in saying that Emmett is an adult scientist who can make his own decisions. The saving of the space-time continuum goes before everything, of course, but I'd prefer to hold off on sending anyone to Clara's cabin for another few hours. Give him some time to return here on his own. And _then_ , he'll have some explaining to do."

"You bet he will" Mike quipped. "So, what do we do in the meantime? Work on the DeLoreans? There is still some stuff we need to do, after all…"

"That would seem to be the best course of action" Chris decided. "It is unfortunate that Emmett isn't here, but as we've just established I prefer not to go and get him, so in the meantime we'll finish the connection between the cars and get them ready to be towed to the site of the train tracks tonight."

"You want to tow them?" Calvin asked, stunned. "Both? All the way?"

"If you can find another way to transport them that simultaneously doesn't end up using the precious gas left in both tanks, you're welcome to it" Chris replied. "I suppose we could use horses again, though – although I'd prefer to use the wagon to not expose them to the terrain… still, I suppose that wouldn't be an option, as the wagon isn't that long… although considering the nature of the connection, it might be possible for one of the vehicles to be transported on it… hm…"

"Dad?" Mike spoke up.

"Ah, yes, of course." Chris looked up, smiling faintly. "Well, we'll just do whatever we need to do to ensure a safe and efficient transport – we can't do it until tonight anyway, because we won't be ready and it won't be dark enough until that time. That does mean that we're cutting it a bit close given that our return to the future is scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I cannot see any problems that will arise from that."

"Well, I'm sure there are always problems available" Ann replied, sounding cheerful despite the contrasting nature of her words.

"Of course, of course" Chris replied, weary. "In any case, let's all get dressed and have breakfast first. It's going to be another long day."

And thus they did, enjoying a crude breakfast that mostly consisted of bread, bacon and eggs, while getting prepared for another day in the 1880s. They also resumed work on the DeLoreans thereafter, with the blankets being held ready in case someone would show up – a chance that wasn't that big, as Chris had hung out a 'closed' sign. He and Mike did most of the work on the DeLoreans, while Marty, Calvin and Ann served as assistants who did quite useful jobs but could at times be excused. Marty was just taking one of those breaks when there was a sound of hoofbeats nearby. While that wasn't anything out of the usual, this was so loud and threatening that it made Chris and Mike pause their work and exchange glances.

"Should we…" Mike began, but his father cut him off. "We should" he replied, and between the five of them they rapidly put up the blanket as the noise further increased in strength before halting just in front of their door. A few moments later, the sound of a log of wood hammering against the door could be heard, echoing throughout the shop. Calvin rapidly grabbed for the gun and handed it to Chris while the hammering continued until their attackers broke through the door. They roughly pushed it open, and Marty could see who they were. Tannen's goons, just as he'd suspected.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Calvin exclaimed.

"We're here for you, Eastwood" the main goon replied. "Or one of you at least… but not to shoot you down, so don't bother with that gun, as we've got others to defend ourselves with and there are more of us than there are of you. Now, which one is Lewis Eastwood?"

A brief shiver of fear went through Marty's spine, but he decided to ignore it. He straightened his back and looked the villains into the eyes. "That would be me" he said. "What do you want?"

The goon simply grinned. "We have your friends – the other blacksmith, and the schoolteacher. If you want to see them alive and unharmed again, you are to face Buford Tannen in a gun duel tomorrow morning at seven o'clock. No informing the Marshall, and guns will be provided. We can check on you and see whether you follow those rules. Do you accept?"

While the others gawked at the news about their friends, Marty tried as hard as he could to keep a straight face. "Why tomorrow?"

"We're off to rob the Pine City Stage today" the goon replied, with brutal honesty. "And don't even think about rescuing the blacksmith and his filly before then, because we'll have guards in place."

Marty gulped. "All right, where?"

"North" the goon replied, vaguely. "Near the ravine, just west of it. You will find it easily, it is the only house in a wide area that is being lived in. Now I repeat, do you accept, or are you the coward the boss said you were?"

Marty thought hard. As much as he didn't wish to react to people calling him a coward anymore, he knew that he had to save Doc and Clara. But under these conditions… He tried to glance sideway at the others, who were giving him indeterminate looks. "All right" he finally replied. "But," he added, just before the goons were about to turn back to their horses, "at eight o'clock. I, uh, I only fight people after breakfast… and we need time getting there so as not to get lost."

The goons interchanged looks, and the main one shrugged. "Whatever" he replied. "Just be there. Come on, boys!" They got back onto their horses, pulled at the reins and left as rapid as they had come, firing several shots into the air as they did so.

"What is it with all these people shooting in the air for effect these days?" Calvin wondered, looking after them.

"I don't know. Maybe bullets are on sale." Chris turned to Marty, the concern obvious in his eyes. "Marty, why did you postpone that duel? Even if everything went well, we would still have to catch our train, and now you have made that almost physically impossible!"

"Well, I suppose I could have named a slightly earlier time, like 7:45 or 7:50, but I wasn't thinking of that and it probably wouldn't have been good to push my luck by asking for such a precise time" Marty replied. "And this way, if we manage to get out alive and get Doc and Clara free, we can head right back over to the train so that we'll be safe from Tannen back in 1985 as soon as possible." He left the unspoken question of what would happen to Clara in that situation hanging in the air.

"Good point" Chris agreed, also either forgetting or choosing not to address that issue either. "Now, for a more significant matter – how are we going to get around that duel?"

"Oh, that's easy" Marty replied, smiling. "We just use the bullet-proof vest trick we used in 1985, when I needed to face Biff Tannen. Buford doesn't know what happened then, as it is in the future, so he has no reason to see this coming. And from what I've seen, he's even more stupid than that alternate Biff was."

"Which doesn't mean he's less scary" Calvin said, frowning. "That plan isn't foolproof, Marty. It could go wrong easily… heck, it did go wrong for us, as Biff's goons would have shot us if not for Mike's biological Mom showing up. I doubt she's going to make an appearance this time, though."

"I suppose" Marty grimaced. "Then what else should I do to keep you safe?"

"I'd say we should prepare something to distract them when Buford fails to kill you" Mike said, thoughtfully. "I mean, seeing someone whom they think would be dead rise in front of them would be a pretty scary sight already, so if we can distract Tannen's goons any further, we might be able to escape before they can come to their senses." He grinned. "Perhaps we could even convince them that you're a ghost, Marty? Using future technology?"

"I'm not sure if that's a possibility" Chris said. "Tannens, even Buford, are not that dumb. I suppose we might be able to scare them using future technology, but I'm not sure if we've got anything useful and I'd loathe to do it in a manner where past natives might eventually be able to find out even the slightest thing about it, especially if those natives are _Tannens_." The scorn was audible in his voice. "I would prefer for us to use a more… subtle approach."

"Such as?" Ann asked.

"I'm working on it" Chris muttered. "I'm sure we'll be able to come up with a coherent plan before tonight. However, I'd prefer for us to make a rescue attempt before then. If there's any way to avoid this shoot-out, we should take it."

"Always take the path of the least resistance" Mike agreed. "But if Tannen has guards put out there today, it might be difficult to get in. And then to think that he also needs his gang to rob that stagecoach, there might be a double crew tonight."

"That is very well possible" Chris agreed. "I doubt Buford and his men are the only gang in Hill Valley. That does complicate matters… and it pretty much requires us to send someone in in the daytime. Preferably around noon, when the temperature is highest and the guards are liable to be inside – it may be early September, but it can get pretty hot in here after all. Someone should look around the back of the shack our friends are in, and try to find an alternate escape route. The problem with that, though, is that we would be best off sending only one person, as we can't afford to lose many people if they get caught." He sighed. "Of course, if we do send just one person, that person would be at a considerable risk. And I can't imagine whom of you would volunteer…"

"I'll do it."

The proclamation Marty heard his identical twin brother utter was so unexpected and confident that it caused him to swivel his head towards him in confusion. Sure enough, Calvin nodded, even to the perplexed looks on the faces of the others. "Are you sure?" Marty stammered. "You know the risks…"

"I sure do" Calvin agreed. "Tannens goons could find me and either lock me up with Doc and Clara or shoot me right away." He was trembling a little, but overall appeared to be in control of himself. "And I'm certainly not looking forward to it, but hey, somebody had to volunteer, right?"

"True" Chris admitted. "That's very brave of you, Calvin." Mike and Ann nodded in approval, the latter of which made Marty wonder if his twin was doing this as a scheme to impress her. It was likely to go far in winning her heart, of course, and a few days ago Marty would have accepted that explanation right away. Now, however, he had realized that Calvin and Ann were trying to stay away from each other (as Calvin showed with Lauren, and he had noticed Ann giving some boys at the festival appreciative looks as well), so that explanation wouldn't fully cover it. More likely was that Calvin was simply telling the truth; after all, his twin only had memories from a timeline where his family life was crappy and he had to look out for himself. And perhaps more importantly, there was the fact that, as Marty knew, Calvin felt somewhat guilty for them being in this situation in the first place. If his twin felt that he had to do something to repay them… and since it was true that _somebody_ needed to do it…

"Okay, Calvin" he finally agreed. "Good luck. You'll need it."

oooooooo

Over the past several hours (which was what he guessed it had been, anyway; he was sure a full day hadn't passed yet but besides that it was rather difficult to tell the time with his (valuable) watches having been taken away from him) Dr. Emmett Brown had come to the conclusion that life as a prisoner in Buford Tannen's hideout was worse than he could ever have imagined.

The one thing fortunate was that neither Tannen nor his goons were physically torturing him or Clara, aside from some beating before they got here, creating some bruises which had begun to swell painfully. Besides that, though, he was in a horrible condition. The room of the shack he was in was completely empty; rats scurried around behind the walls and he thought he'd even spotted one once or twice; water had been provided just once the entire time and besides that his physical needs seemed to be largely ignored (at least he hadn't needed to go to the bathroom yet) as food wasn't provided at all. Worse, there was one window in the shack through which the sun was shining directly on them as if it were a laser, and he couldn't move due to being tied up. It was no stereotypical African prison camp designed to take full advantage of the heat, but this was no picnic either.

What made it worse was that he didn't have to suffer this alone, which would have been bearable. No, Clara Clayton, the love of his life, was just as tied up as he was and sitting next to him, suffering as much as he did. She only occasionally groaned in despair, but for the remainder of the time stayed remarkably still. Doc couldn't help but admire her strength of will.

They hadn't talked all that much yet, as Clara had been in a bit of a shock from what had happened, and presumably neither of them had wished to ask the other about their thoughts on what was going to happen to them, knowing that their worst dreams were going to be confirmed. However, Doc knew that his friends would be certain to rescue them, especially as they had a time machine; Clara would of course be a lot less sure of that. It was thus that he felt the urge to talk to her, to at least try to reassure her somewhat, but as long as she remained silent, the inventor decided to do the same rather than break the spell.

Nevertheless, after a long while of detention, Clara finally spoke up. "Emmett?" she asked, the concern clear in her voice. "I have to know. What… what do you think will come of us?"

The inventor would have liked to be able to reassure her. Instead, he half-heartedly shrugged. "I don't know, Clara" he whispered. "Not for sure. But I do know that my relatives would not leave you… us, trapped here. I know they will try to save us. I just wish they wouldn't have to put their own lives on the line as well… especially Marty, er, Lewis Eastwood."

Clara cast her eyes down. "I wouldn't want your friends to go through all that trouble for me, Emmett."

"And for me" Doc reminded her. "They would be saving me as well. I just hope that there is any way for us to get out while avoiding Lewis getting into that duel. He's a smart kid, but he's no match against Buford Tannen in a gunfight." He smiled. "But we've gotten into similar situations before in the past, and triumphed. Don't worry Clara, we will get you out of here."

"I hope so, too" Clara agreed, sighing. "But I want you to promise me one thing, Emmett."

The inventor frowned. "What?"

"That you _won't_ try to get me out of here, not if it means that you can escape yourself" Clara said. "If I slow you down by any way, just leave me behind. You shouldn't try to save me and endanger all your friends in the process."

"No way" Doc replied, resolutely. "If I can't save you, I might as well not save myself. I wouldn't want to leave you behind."

"That's very sweet, Emmett" Clara replied, smiling. "Still, I can't force you to stay here for a mad schoolteacher you only met just a few days ago…"

"Mad schoolteacher?" the inventor repeated, staring into her eyes. "Clara, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! You're the sweetest, nicest, smartest woman I've ever met! I couldn't leave you behind in this prison, at the mercy of Tannen and his goons! It would break my heart! I… I love you…"

As Doc realized what he'd said, he felt like mentally smacking himself for doing so. Surely Clara, beautiful, young Clara, would now back away from him, the kind old man whom she had just found out to be a pervert. But, as with Chris and Susan so long ago, this young lady didn't scold him. She simply smiled at him, touched. "Emmett, are you sure of that?"

The scientist gulped. "I – I've never been surer of anything in my entire life" he whispered truthfully. "But… I couldn't force you to accept…"

"Force me?" Now it was Clara's turn to be surprised at farfetched notions. "Emmett, you wouldn't have to force me to do anything! I love you too!"

Doc's eyes widened. He realized the same thing had happened to Chris, of course, and with an extremely similar woman, so he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. Yet, he couldn't help but stammer: "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely" Clara replied. "Emmett, I'm sure you're not the man my parents would have wanted me to be with, the one society in Hill Valley wants me to be with… and frankly, you're hardly the one I _expected_ to marry either. But yet I can't think of somebody else that would better fit that position, and I don't think I'll ever encounter somebody better either. So yes, I am a hundred percent certain."

Doc's eyes widened even further, to the extent that this was humanly possible. "You wish to _marry_ me?" he gasped.

Clara, who had been leaning ever closer to him, suddenly drew back. "If you want to" she said, uncertainly.

"I, I…" Doc replied, sweat breaking out on his forehead from the emotional moment. He thought of Chris, and of all his other friends, who would no doubt disapprove of what he was doing right at this moment. Yet, he looked into Clara's eyes and he couldn't care less. "Clara, I love you" he whispered. "Even if Chr-John and the others berate me, even if it endangers the space-time continuum," she frowned uncomprehendingly at that, "no matter what happens, if we do get out of here, I want to stay with you until the end of time."

Clara smiled at him and leaned over as far as their bonds allowed it. Doc returned the favor, and they narrowly managed to kiss, nevertheless laying passion in there that neither of them had ever experienced before, except perhaps last night. Emmett Brown felt truly at ease inside. Finally, he had what he'd longed for for so long.

Now he just needed to keep it.

oooooooo

As they had pretty much figured out before, the time travelers couldn't concentrate on preparing the rescue plan for Emmett and Clara right away. Instead, Calvin joined the others in getting to work on the last details with the DeLoreans, as well as planning out the events of the next day to meticulous detail. It wasn't until one P.M. that he ended up leaving Hill Valley, heading towards Tannen's shack on his horse, a backpack clinging onto the saddle.

The journey towards the shack was rather easy, and finding it also wasn't as hard as Buford's gang member had made it appear to be, given that it was the only building in a wide distance. It was only when he got there that Calvin began to have serious doubts about the whole thing. Of course, he wanted to help break Doc and Clara out, and he wanted to get this all over with… but that didn't mean he really liked putting his life at risk.

Telling himself to be brave, the teen eventually abandoned his horse in a cave that was conveniently located near the shack, put the backpack on his back, and approached the building. There appeared to be one door, and it was guarded by two unfamiliar men, sitting on wooden chairs and leaning against the door. Calvin squinted, straining his brain for clues if they had seen these people before, but came up with a blank. So Buford _had_ gotten additional help in. That made everything just a little harder.

Cautiously, he moved past the building, seeking shelter behind some trees. Fortunately, this shack hadn't been put in the middle of the desert but rather more near a small group of trees where one could have natural cover from the heat. It did make Calvin wonder why the front door did face the sun but, well, that wasn't anything for him to worry about right now.

After he got past the guards (who didn't appear to be paying attention to stuff anyway; heck, for all he knew they weren't guards but simply gang members trying to get a tan), he was able to sneak much closer to the actual shack itself, inspecting the walls, cautiously moving over the leaves and the sticks and branches in his way, wincing every time he stepped on something that made a louder noise than the rustling of the trees near him. Thankfully, there seemed to be no change from upfront. People weren't noticing him. Everything was going optimal.

Unfortunately, for his actual mission, that statement wasn't true. As hard as Calvin looked, he couldn't find anything that indicated a weak spot in the wall. Due to a general absence of windows, he at first couldn't find Doc and Clara either, until he finally peered into one which was rather high up in the back of the shack, and spotted his friend and the schoolteacher, tightly tied up against the wall. He softly called their names, but got no response, either visual or audible.

For a moment, he considered knocking on the window, then figured that that would be too loud, and thus he simply continued his journey, sneaking around the corner and past the left wall of the building, making sure that he both wasn't heard or seen by the guards who were still at their post. Every time he made a slightly loud noise, Calvin thought his heart was going to stop. But nothing happened. Finally, the teen decided to just head back to the back wall of the shack, which, if anywhere, was going to be where to find the place to penetrate inside. He wondered if he should have taken Chris' gun along, but figured that it was better that he hadn't. They could march in guns blazing, but if one of the gang managed to get to the hostages before they could round them all up, the situation could easily be reversed again.

Now, it was time for a more complex, but hopefully slightly less dangerous plan. Calvin took off his backpack, taking out the saw Chris had made him bring. The basic plan was to simply saw a hole in the wall so big that Doc and Clara could climb out, and make as little noise as possible during the whole procedure. There were a ton of ways that could go wrong, but there were even more ways in which Marty facing Buford Tannen tomorrow could go wrong, so Chris had been in a proper mood to let Calvin try, and Calvin had been in a proper mood to agree to it. Right now, though, he increasingly doubted his previous judgment. He took the saw and knelt down, carefully expecting the wall. For a moment, despair gripped him – how was he going to get through this? Especially as soon as possible and without making noise?

The panic gripped him for a few moments, but eventually subsided. The teen sighed deeply, took a better hold onto the saw, and put it in place against the wall to start sawing the hole…

"Clint?"

The familiar voice speaking to him created such a jolt in Calvin's nervous system that he was sure he came within inches of a heart attack _this_ time around. As it was, he jumped up, barely suppressed a scream, and thereafter needed to calm down for over fifteen seconds before he could think straight again, let alone turn to the originator of the voice. As it was, he remained slightly in shock, and that was exaggerated once he got a good look at who had called him. "Lauren?" he sputtered. "What are you doing here?"

Lauren chuckled wryly. "Well, isn't that peculiar" she mused. "I'd have thought that was a question I should be asking you, Mr. Eastwood."

Calvin wasn't sure how to reply to that, but eventually regained some of his composure. "Then let's both ask that question, and answer it" he wittily replied. "Although I think you already have a clue what I might be doing here, but I don't have any about you."

Lauren gave him a peculiar look, then cast her eyes down. "Fair enough" she admitted. "Clint, there's something I didn't tell you yesterday when we were dancing – and I was hoping that if we really clicked, I could always tell you then, rather than have it turn you away instantly." She nervously bit her lip. "My father, Frank Needles, is the leader of a criminal gang like that of Buford Tannen's. He told me that he intended to help Buford, and…"

"You're a _Needles_?" Calvin replied, stunned. He stared closer at her, trying to see anything in her that reminded him of the Douglas Needles he knew. There appeared to be very little resemblance, though.

Lauren frowned. "Yeah, why?" she asked. "Have you met any of our family before?"

"Perhaps a distant relative, yeah" Calvin said, covering. "Back, uh, back where we come from. They didn't look anything like you, though."

Lauren shrugged. "Then it must have been a real distant relative, or just someone unrelated who happened to have the same name" she replied. "And relatives don't always resemble each other. People tell me I look a lot like my mother, but no one's ever said that I take after my father."

"Uh, okay" Calvin replied, noticing he was breathing a little easier now. _Okay, so she is the daughter of a Needles – a Needles who also owns a criminal gang. So what? She's still beautiful, and nice… she'd never do anything similar to what her family did, would she?_

As it was, Lauren now frowned at him again. "So anyway," she replied, softly, "if I don't miss my guess, you're here to break out those people Tannen locked away in there last night – would that be right?"

Calvin had no other remotely plausible idea that could also explain his current location, and for what it was worth, he did feel like he could trust Lauren. "Right" he replied. "Lewis didn't want to endanger us or them, and we're not sure we can trust Mr. Tannen and his gang to let them go after their duel, even if Lewis wins."

Lauren smirked. "That's a very good observation" she said, folding her arms. "As it is, though, it appears that I caught you in the act. And if you stay here, others could notice your presence too."

Calvin stared awkwardly at her. "Lauren, I…"

"I would recommend you to go now, before anybody besides me notices you walking past our windows and rustling through the leaves" Lauren said. "I'm certainly not going to let you go through with your crazy scheme."

Calvin nodded awkwardly, wondering whether that meant Lauren disapproved of the whole concept of saving Doc and Clara, or if she just thought the current plan was crazy. Either way, he decided to follow up on it. "I will" he whispered.

"You'd better" Lauren replied, walking closer to him and appearing to get a little nervous. "Clint… keep yourself safe, okay? What goes on between Mr. Tannen and your brother doesn't mean _you_ should put yourself in harm's way." With that, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked off, leaving a stunned Calvin behind.

oooooooo

It took Calvin Arthur McFly roughly a minute or two to come to his senses and head back for his horse. He couldn't contact or rescue Doc and Clara from out here, nor did Lauren want him to. He thus numbly went back into town, where he was met by his surprised friends. The message he gave them, though, soon turned the looks on their faces (or at least on Chris') into one of abject horror.

"She's a _Needles_!" Chris spouted. "You're associating with a Needles, here in 1885… and you believe her?"

"Hey, you can't judge Lauren for her family's sake!" Calvin protested. "All we know is that Douglas Needles and his father were jerks, and so is Lauren's Dad, apparently. But that doesn't mean she herself is bad. She did let me go, after all."

"She did… but that doesn't mean we have to put our trust in her not betraying us now" Chris replied. "She clearly liked you well enough to let you go _then_ , but that doesn't mean when put to the test that she won't stick to your father. You can't paint such a romantic picture of the whole story, Calvin – especially not in the Old West. Even if Lauren likes you, she might still back her father in any case."

"Nonsense" Calvin stubbornly said. "She told me her Dad made her work at the saloon, and that she hated that job. Why would she turn me in? If anything, she'd be inclined to back us, especially if it's a clear-cut matter of right and wrong, such as if Buford's gang tries to do something against the rest of us tomorrow."

"I wish it were that simple – and now _you're_ just being naïve, like Marty was this morning" Ann spoke up. "Mike, have you still got our newspaper?"

"Sure" the addressee replied, heading over to the workbench and digging up the paper from a whole stack of papers. He walked towards the center of the room, and the others crowded around him, especially Marty and Calvin, to see that the article had now changed. It read as followed:

Hill Valley Telegraph – Tuesday, September 8th 1885

 _BUFORD TANNEN CAPTURED AFTER MASSACRE_

 _Buford Tannen, a local outlaw whom has troubled this town several times before and terrorized many of its citizens, struck once more early yesterday morning when he engaged in a gun duel at his shack near Shonash Ravine. Tannen had apparently challenged Mr. Lewis Eastwood, 18, to a duel while holding hostages against him, and although the latter had won (though unfairly, as Tannen claimed), he subsequently succeeded in killing his hostages and several of the would-be rescuers before the survivors managed to alert Marshall Strickland, who succeeded in arresting Tannen (although the Needles gang, accomplices in the crimes, got away). Marshall Strickland thus rids Hill Valley of a long plague as for this and for the robbery of the Pine City Stage, which occurred two days ago, Tannen will likely be imprisoned or hung. Unfortunately, nothing more could be done for his victims by this point, and those who hadn't yet done so died shortly after one another yesterday afternoon._

Mike stared at his counterpart. "Well, Calvin?" he asked. "Still convinced that Lauren is going to help us?"

Calvin, though obviously rattled by the news in the paper, tried to remain confident. "Perhaps not entirely," he admitted, "but you haven't convinced me of the opposite case either. This is one possible future, right? So if this article _doesn't_ take into account the possibility of Lauren helping us out…"

"This paper represents the one that _will_ be printed in two days' time if the events of today continue to run their course into tomorrow and the day thereafter" Chris explained. "The events of today, I'm afraid, already include your chat with miss Needles. Nevertheless, it is true that the future is still very much in flux, and that this might be something that would have happened even before your conversation with Lauren… it does appear to indicate that Buford made no attempt to intervene before Marty defeated him. This future is still flexible… and just as well, or nearly all of us would be doomed."

"Well, you're the Doc, Chris" Marty replied, sounding nervous – although Calvin could hardly blame his twin for that. "So, what do you think is the best way to prepare for tomorrow?"

"That's simple" Chris said. "We'll just do everything we can to succeed, and to survive. What else could we possibly do?"

And there was no one who could argue with that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF.**

 _Author's Note:_ New chapter, in which things aren't always what they seem, or at least, what people expected or hoped them to be. Please read and review. Also October 21st 2015 is coming up! Celebrate it with your friends! Can anyone believe we're actually almost here? _  
_

 **Chapter Eleven**

Monday, September 7, 1885  
07:45 AM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

Although he had realized that he wasn't going to have a good night, facing as he did the prospect of a very dangerous gun duel and a subsequent train ride to the future, all with infinite possibilities for failure, Marty McFly hadn't realized just how hard it would strike him until he actually tried to go to sleep. He didn't doze off until about one-thirty, 'briefly' awoke from three-thirty to four A.M., and then woke up at five-fifty and couldn't fall asleep again. This was probably just as well, since they needed to be up early. Now more than ever they needed to be alert and well-prepared.

Some preparations had already been taken last night, including putting the DeLoreans in position on the railroad tracks. Chris and Mike had been the most important in building a construction that could get the time machines on from a wagon with relative ease – although Marty wondered how they were going to get them back off again when they returned to 1985, especially as they were going to be travelling over a fairly busy part of railroad. He supposed that imminent death and, if he survived, a nearly as dangerous train-assisted journey would help put such worries off _any_ one's mind, and indeed he soon stopped thinking about it.

They approached the shack Tannen and his goons were in to find that Buford Tannen and his men were already waiting outside. There were a few unfamiliar men too, one of which looked stunningly like an older, Western version of Douglas Needles. That had to be his ancestor. Standing next to him with a depressed look on her face was a young girl Marty vaguely recognized from the dance – Lauren. Trying to distract himself from the upcoming duel, he examined her closer. Now that he got a good look at her, he couldn't blame Calvin for getting… distracted because of her. She was fairly pretty.

As he returned his gaze to Buford Tannen again, though, Lauren Needles was forgotten. Marty dismounted his horse roughly three yards away from the outlaw, nervously feeling around through his jacket for the bullet-proof vest he had constructed last night. It was just a stove door – not like they were going to use that stove in the future anymore, anyway – but it made him breathe a little easier.

"Well," he spoke, the words sounding weaker than he'd wanted them to, "I'm here. Now where are your hostages?"

In response, Tannen simply chuckled, and motioned for the gang to head inside. A few moments later, they brought out Doc and Clara, their wrists still tied up behind their back. Nevertheless, it was an enormous relief for Marty to see his friend again. "Doc!"

"Lewis!" the inventor replied, somewhat more uneasy.

Marty smiled reassuringly at him, but couldn't help but feeling nervous himself. As much as he wanted to tell Doc that it was going to turn out fine, he couldn't… and he wasn't even sure that it would. This situation was extremely dangerous, and he realized that even more when Needles and his gang lead away their horses and pushed Doc and Clara roughly towards the other attendees, keeping their guns trained on them. Now Marty was glad Chris had brought his gun along for emergencies. The problem was that it wasn't here, right now.

Nervous, the teen stepped forwards, and Buford did the same, clutching a gun. One of Buford's gang members walked towards Marty and reached out to give him a dusty, old looking gun – the same trick Biff had tried in 1985. Nervously, he shook his head and motioned for the goon to back off. In return, Buford stared at him, uncomprehending. "What's wrong runt, you still yellow?"

"I don't need a gun" Marty replied confidently – in reality, of course, he didn't want to risk killing someone. "I thought we could settle this like men." He clenched his hands into fists and motioned for his opponent to start a fistfight.

In response, Buford simply stared at him. "You thought wrong dude."

Faster than anyone could imagine Tannen drew his gun and shot Marty. The bullet hit him straight in the center of the stove door, and knocked the teen over for real even though he was wearing protection. He landed on the ground, blinking and barely conscious. In a way, Marty's befuddled mind realized, that was probably a good thing – this way, he couldn't accidentally make a move and alert the others that something was up.

As it was, he couldn't actually hear what was going on around him, except Buford chuckling and his friends gasping. With Doc, Marty wondered how much of that was an act and how much was real. Surely he had to remember that incident back in Hell Valley?

The situation was eerily similar anyway, with Buford strolling up to him with an air of confidence. He was even saying his thanks for the audience reaction – Biff hadn't done that, but he certainly had been vain about his accomplishments. Why were all Tannens such bastards? Anyway, it didn't matter. Marty prepared himself to knock the gun out of Buford's hand…

…only to see the outlaw stop _before_ reaching his body. The teen mentally gasped, noticing that Buford was looking at him cautiously and clenching his hand around his gun. What could he have done to cause this? He had lain completely still! His eyes were barely a crack open, just enough to see the basics! Was it some random change in Buford's behavior? A more suspicious character compared to Biff's? Or something his friends had either done or _not_ done? Marty figured that he might never find out and that it wouldn't matter anyway, because in a few moments he could be toast.

The teen tried to judge his chances. What should he do? Reach out for Buford's gun anyway, in his current endangered position? No, that was almost certainly going to fail. Jump up and try to overwhelm Buford? Perhaps, but although he would still have the advantage of surprise, it would be a narrow one. Just keep lying there and wait for Buford to move closer? It was the most appealing option, although if Buford decided to make sure of his case and shoot him in the _head_ … Ann had been right, everything was really going wrong for them.

As he was still pondering all those issues, the sound of Buford aiming his gun and seeing the line of direction it was aimed in made Marty decide to stop thinking. He jumped up, amazingly got to his feet in one swift movement, and then lunged forwards into Buford's chest without further consideration, knocking his gun out of his hand. Mentally, he spared a moment for a grin. That went about as well as it could have.

"Needles!" Buford shouted. "Shoot the bastards!"

Marty froze, allowing Tannen to get the better of him for a brief moment and knock him off balance, leading to them nearly wrestling on the ground. Buford was bigger and stronger, but Marty smaller and more flexible. More important, though, were the others, whom Marty was keeping a half-eye on as the Tannen and Needles gangs rose their weapons, they clicked, Lauren let out a short shriek, and…

BANG!

Now that was just in the nick of time.

Buford Tannen was momentarily distracted, allowing Marty to pin him down for a moment, long enough to get the vest loose and smack it into the outlaw's face. It also gave him the opportunity to look up at Mike holding Doc and Chris' gun, the Terminator, with confidence. "I believe the honorable gentlemen in Mr. Tannen's gang have already had some experience with this weapon… and thus I recommend them, and Mr. Needles and his friends, to let _my_ friends go. Now!"

Buford Tannen stumbled back up, whereas Frank Needles took a semi-confident step forwards. "Do you think you can get away with this, runt?" Tannen snarled.

"We're certainly going to try" Mike replied, smirking at him and continuing to hold the gun tightly and confidently. Behind them, Chris and Doc were goading the others to carefully walk away from their would-be captors, who growled but didn't dare to do anything. "Besides, you got away with such things too, didn't you?"

Buford didn't say anything in reply to that at first, which allowed Chris to untie Doc and help untying Clara. "How come you were able to get here, anyway?" he asked. "They were supposed to keep all of you at bay while I got rid of this pie-slinging bastard."

"Ah, that's easy" Mike said, grinning, as Chris and the others were getting away to safety behind them, taking most of the horses along for safety. He himself took a step back as well, and motioned for Marty to follow. "You just were too stupid to realize that there were three of us – not just two. We simply confused your goons a little, I got off scot-free, and the rest was history."

Buford growled in clear rage, and Mike took a few steps back. "Well, it's been a wonderful time chatting with you, but I'm afraid we have to go now" he said, sarcastically. "Come on, Lewis."

Suddenly, it happened. The causes were minor – Mike just relaxing his attention for one moment, being confident in victory and looking in the other direction for just a few short instants. It was understandable, of course – walking backwards generally tends not to be a good idea, especially on such bad terrain as they were on now. With Buford Tannen in front of you, though, it probably would have been better.

Buford was enraged. Not just at the foiling of his plan, not just at all his hostages getting away, not just at getting called stupid in front of the rest of his gang… it was the humiliation, not just from being unable to beat Marty in a fight, but perhaps from the general situation most of all. And while Buford Tannen wasn't normally prone to clever, detailed, well-planned thoughts, he ordinarily had some order in his plans. This situation, however, caused him to just lunge at Mike wildly, making a grab for the gun.

He might have succeeded if not for Marty noticing and screaming his counterpart's name. Mike turned and gripped the gun more solidly before Buford could touch it. As it was, the bully was trying to wrestle it out of his hands, and even as Marty jumped to Mike's rescue and the rest of the gang remained too surprised at all the turns of events to do anything, Buford was stronger than the both of them. Of course, given that Mike still had the gun, that didn't need to mean anything, but there was one problem.

Mike was probably the best equipped, mentally and physically, for pointing a gun at their enemies out of all of the people they had (well, perhaps except Chris). He could be cold, calculating, cynical at times, much more so than any of his counterparts. Marty would later wonder why that wouldn't make him attracted to Ann, and vice versa, but he supposed that Ann couldn't go that far, because if she with her cynical character dated someone so much like her they would depress each other. She needed someone realistic, but still somewhat idealistic, which removed Mike from the equation.

As it was, though, Mike was clever, calculating, and pragmatic… but he wasn't a bad guy. And now that he had the gun, the thought of shooting Buford Tannen in cold blood didn't appeal to him very much either. He didn't want to murder somebody, not even a Tannen, and that made him increasingly less of a threat.

It wasn't that he wasn't doing anything with the gun, though. During their struggle, Mike repeatedly fired shots into the air, frightening Marty out of his wits but not having the same desired effect on Buford. Pointing the gun at him didn't work either – whenever he succeeded in that, he would have been scary had he meant to go through with his scheme, but he didn't, and Buford knew it. He realized it now.

That just left two teens struggling over an object with a larger bully who eventually got reinforcements, and that game couldn't be kept up for long – in fact, it all happened so fast that by the end Marty thought two hours had passed but it had been closer to being two minutes in reality. Anyway, Mike stumbled and fell, Marty went down after him, and Buford snatched the Terminator.

"Now let's see if those stove door tricks will save you, runts" he snarled, pointing the gun at Mike's chest. Marty gasped, horrified, while Buford chuckled. The teen tried to do something, but it was already too late. Tannen pulled the trigger…

…and nothing happened.

Frowning, Buford tried to pull the trigger again. And again. And nothing happened. Utterly relieved, Marty jumped to his feet, Mike following the moment thereafter. They only had a few moments while Buford was trying frantically to repair the gun (which was fruitless, as it was out of ammunition after all) and not noticing them getting away, but they were making use of them. Even as Buford noticed them and rallied his men, and _real_ gunshots sounded through the early morning air, Marty and Mike were nearly outside of shooting distance.

"That was a close one" Mike muttered, under his breath.

"Again" Marty replied, in a simple concise statement that he felt said everything that needed to be said about their situation right now.

One thing that was left to wonder, though, was where the others had gone. As it turned out, neither of them had been paying attention, and they knew little more than the general direction their friends had headed into. Fortunately, they had made some plans beforehand, and Marty knew there was a cave in the area nearby which Chris had figured would make a perfect hiding place. If only they could get in it before Tannen's men could catch up with them, or just see them…

"Mike! Marty!" a familiar voice hissed nearby. Relieved, Marty and Mike turned towards the cave and ran into it before pressing their backs against the wall. Marty figured his heart had to be beating around two times faster than it usually did right now.

"Are you sure nobody saw you get in here?" Chris asked. Although the others were leaning against the walls or sitting down, with Doc comforting a stunned Clara, Chris was still alert and appeared suspicious that something might happen.

"I'm sure we're fine, Dad" Mike assured him. "If we hide in the shadows and don't make too much noise, I'm sure they won't…"

"There they come" Ann interrupted him.

Mike shut up, and they all tried to make themselves as small as possible as the sound of hoofbeats became clearer. At the sound of the hooves, the horses that were still inside the cave started bristling, and they needed to exert all pressure they had to keep the animals from whinnying at full force. Chris even turned out to have some sugar blocks to feed them, which helped keep them quiet. Where he had gotten them from Marty didn't know, but he figured that his friend had known to come well-prepared.

The footsteps of the gang members were much closer than they should have been, and Marty felt really fortunate that at this point in time, flashlights hadn't yet been invented. Footsteps moved closer, closer, then further away again. He could hear them moving around the cave….

"I don't think they're in there" one of the gang members said. "There are no horses around here, and I don't think that cave's deep enough to hide them."

"Is it?" Buford wondered. Marty really hoped he wouldn't check it out – when making this plan, they had partly counted on established Tannen stupidity. If Buford even slightly subverted what they'd seen of him thus far…

But he didn't. "All right boys, they've got to be around here somewhere! Needles, you and your men go on towards Hill Valley, and I'll scan the area here with my men!" Before they knew it, there was the sound of men getting on horses, and even the closest sounds grew increasingly distant.

Calvin breathed a sigh of relief. "Now that was close."

"Again" Marty replied, cynical. "But let's hope there won't be any more situations like this." He straightened, taking a step forwards.

"Careful, Marty" Doc warned him. "It might sound like they're gone, but they could always come back."

"My counterpart is right" Chris agreed. "We should stay in here for a while."

Marty conceded the argument, then smiled sheepishly as he saw Clara staring intently at him. "Marty?" she repeated, and it only then occurred to the teenager that that wasn't supposed to be his name here. "Emmett, what's going on? After all the things you've told me, I sure hope you've been honest!"

Doc flinched slightly. "That's a long story, Clara, and I'm not sure I can explain it right now."

Chris frowned. "What did you tell her?" he asked him. "Emmett, you know that we should be… careful. After all, we went into this to return you and miss Clayton to safety, and it won't do good for her further life here if we… confuse her. With complicated tales."

Doc stared at him, then shook his head. "That's not going to matter."

"And why not, if I may ask?" Chris retorted.

"Because I'm not leaving Clara behind."

The words were out, and everyone could feel the air tensing up. Chris stared at his counterpart, uncomprehending and almost pleading. "Emmett, this is serious! You know we're… not native to Hill Valley, and we can't afford to get people entangled in the… commitments that we've got elsewhere…"

"Oh, you know as well as I do that we are native to Hill Valley, _Chris_ " Emmett replied, as Chris winced at the mention of _his_ real name. Well, not _really_ his real name, but never mind that detail. "And I don't want to leave Clara behind. Clara, dear," he continued, addressing her, "my friends and I have to return to the place I came from. And I don't wish to leave you behind. If I would have to, I'd rather stay here. I love you."

As Clara smiled, touched but confused, the others stared at each other with shock. "Emmett!" Chris exclaimed, raising his voice above the whispering level they had been speaking in thus far. "You know why that isn't an option! It… it's far too dangerous! For us, to stay here! Think of the newspaper!"

"Chris, you know what you feel for Susan… the circumstances in which you met were even similar" Doc replied. "I love Clara, and so I can't let that one newspaper determine my entire destiny. I need to do what is right. In my heart."

"Your heart doesn't enter into it!" Chris exclaimed. "And the matter with Susan and me was completely different! We might have been from… another place, to you, but we lived in the same world! You live in completely different places from each other!"

"I could move" Clara offered. "I wouldn't mind moving. I'd travel anywhere on this world for Emmett."

Chris stared at her, and sighed, seeing the honesty in her eyes. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. Emmett, Clara, I understand, but… Emmett! You're a scientist! Think scientifically about this, for heaven's sake!"

"Dad!" Mike hissed. "Shouldn't you keep your voice down?"

"Yeah" Calvin agreed. "One of Tannen's men might find us, and then there'd be heck to pay."

"I don't think you have to worry about one of Tannen's _men_ finding you."

Everybody's heads turned in the direction of the new yet familiar voice, ongoing quarrels suddenly forgotten. Standing in the opening of the cave was Lauren Needles, a smirk on her face. "You should have planned this escape a little better… or at least, you should have made sure there _really_ wasn't anybody who saw you enter this place."

"Lauren!" Calvin whispered, shocked and yet pleasantly surprised. He started to walk towards her, but a firm stare froze him in his tracks.

"I wouldn't do that, Clint" Lauren said, folding her arms. "One scream – just one scream – from me, and my father and his friends will be all over you, and you won't be able to escape in time, not without that gun."

Calvin stared at her, shocked. "You… you wouldn't do that" he sputtered.

"And just why not?"

Calvin opened his mouth and shut it again. "Well… because… you have no reason to turn us in" he spluttered. "I mean, your Dad is _forcing_ you to work as a prostitute, isn't he? A-a-and we're… close, right? You and me?"

"So what?" Lauren retorted. "I don't like the work, but it brings in money. And, sure, you might be… nice…" her attitude softened a bit and it even looked like she was smiling. Then she frowned again. "But it's bad enough that I have to sleep with men for cash! If I betrayed my father too, what kind of ladyness do I have left?" She smirked. "And besides, we hardly knew each other anyway. Sure, I… kinda liked you, and I would have preferred for you to be safe, but if you think I'd flat-out deceive my father over _you_ , think again."

"Told you so" Ann couldn't help but mutter.

Calvin was flabbergasted. "But… how… you… I…" he stammered. "But we _danced_ together! We almost kissed! And you didn't betray me before…"

"That's true" Lauren agreed. "But I did warn you to stay away. And you didn't take up on the warning, so if I turn you in now it's just the fault of your own stubbornness."

"But it's wrong" Calvin insisted. "Buford Tannen is murdering people, and robbing them, and he's terrorizing the town! And if your father cooperates with him, he's just as bad… and if you cooperate with him, you are the same!"

"My father never killed anyone… not that I know of, anyway" Lauren said, sighing. "And as for theft… it's a hard world, you know. Perhaps you never noticed, _mister_ Eastwood, but this is the frontier. Robberies are not nice for the people whose money is stolen, but I'm not any of those people, and it makes my family good money, so why should I care?"

Calvin couldn't speak for a moment, so taken aback was he at her words. "But… but… but…" he stammered.

"But what?"

"But… you're a liar!" he snapped. "You told me…"

"I didn't tell you anything" Lauren said, interrupting him. "I never said that I wasn't on my father's side in arguments like this. You just thought I wasn't because you're too naïve… it's what I found kind of adorable in you, Clint. But I am my father's daughter, and it's not in our family's interest to let you get away, so I'll make sure you won't. I'm _so_ sorry I'm not the goody two-shoes you thought I was."

Calvin narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, you might not have straight out lied to me, but you still deceived me! You tricked me into thinking you were something you weren't!" His expression turned desperate. "Lauren, I'm begging you! In the name of all that's good and decent… you can't want to go through with this!"

Lauren smirked again. "You think I'm good and decent, Eastwood? Think again. You thought wrongly about me… and I guess I also thought wrongly about you. You may be interesting and good-looking, but in the end, you're just proving to be a no-good wuss."

Calvin's eyes narrowed. "You… you bitch" he hissed. "You liar, you criminal, you, you…" He stepped forward, raging at her inside and barely keeping himself from attacking her. "If I had my way, you…"

"So now you're angry at me?" Lauren said, taunting. "What are you going to do, assault me?"

"Exactly!" Calvin snapped, lunging forwards. He could no longer control himself, being too impossibly angry with his adversary, whom he had genuinely cared for and who was turning on him now. He wanted revenge. He _needed_ his revenge. He roughly grabbed Lauren's shoulders and had no idea what he would have done next. Given the state of his mind, it wouldn't have been very pretty. However, it didn't come to that.

The moment he lunged at her, Lauren paled – the moment he touched her, she screamed. Loudly. Within seconds, the sound of hoofbeats turning around and heading towards them could be heard. Shocked, Calvin let go of Lauren, who quickly fled his grasp.

"Great work, Calvin" Mike said, sarcastically and perhaps ruder than he had intended. It didn't matter, because the dumbstruck teenager barely registered the words, still utterly shocked at everything that was going on around him.

The group ran off, first confused, then in ever greater speed. Chris initially leaned towards the horses, but as the gang got too close, the group simply ran off into the bushes. Chris and Emmett took the lead, and Calvin noticed they were taking a rather large detour even as they could see the gang members approaching behind them. It seemed as if Chris was deliberately avoiding a bunch of leaves before they headed into the bushes. He wondered why… or could it be a…

Just then, his sudden last-minute hunch was confirmed, as Buford's gang arrived, did head through the leaves, and the first two horses fell forwards as the leaves crashed to make a dug-out hole. The third horse rider crashed into the other two.

"That must have hurt" Chris commented wryly. "I hadn't intended for them to be on horseback when it hit them."

"You did that?" Calvin whispered, pale.

Chris nodded. "Late last night. I knew we couldn't put our faith on Lauren, no matter what happened. And since _you_ did, I couldn't really tell you about this. But come on" he added. "Let's go further. Buford's managed to escape the trap, and he's got a horse too."

They quickly got back and jumped on their own horses, getting away just before Tannen could recover from his astonishment and get them. Calvin shot one final look towards Lauren, who was looking at him not with any grief or even relief, but with spite for their escape. It shocked him deeply.

But there seemed to be no time for such worries. The horses increased their speed, and so did their riders. Very soon, they were off towards their safety.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: It's October 21st, 2015, 4:41 PM California time. The future is here. Finally, I... still don't own BTTF.**

 _Author's Note:_ New chapter! (It's not weekend and I regularly do weekend updates, but it is October 21st 2015, so that pretty much warrants an update too.) The alternate version of the train scene. It's intense, and Ann is pretty much the heroine of the day (or at least, she's the one who takes action, even if that action doesn't always work out the way she planned for it to. You'll just have to see.) Also involving Buford Tannen. So, yes, major plot development in this one. Please read and review!

 **Chapter Twelve**

Monday, September 7, 1885  
08:10 AM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

Mike felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins as they rode through the countryside, Buford Tannen still distantly behind them. As he looked around, he could see Clara and Calvin being disoriented. Although the former shared a horse with Doc, the latter was constantly falling behind, and just whenever Mike wanted to say something about it he sped up again.

"You know," Marty then wondered, "why are we fleeing from Tannen anyway? He's only the one guy, and there are, what, seven of us now?"

Ann stared at him. "May I remind you that he has a gun."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

Mike chuckled and Marty blushed, but even so Mike had to admit his friend had a point, in a way. Everyone had a gun in this era, and his father had confided in him that the reason they built the Terminator was to have such overwhelming gunpower that they would be able to scare off any opponent, thus ensuring there wouldn't be any actual fighting. Although there was certainly something to be said for that idea, relying on it solely meant that now that the Terminator was gone, they had no means for self-defense left.

He looked over at his father and Doc, who were arguing quietly and apparently even Clara, on Doc's own horse, couldn't understand what they were talking about – although since she was from the past and they were presumably discussing time travel, that wasn't that strange. Mike could guess the subject of their conversation, though – what to do with Clara Clayton.

As he rode closer to his Dad and Doc, that theory was verified pretty soon. "It's too dangerous to take her along!" his father was insisting. "How will she adjust? Could she really bear… our world? Does she want to?"

Doc sighed. "Then what do you suggest? To just leave her out there to be captured by Buford Tannen and his goons eventually? Chris, please. Think of Susan, think of your family which you have now. Think of Clay… of the ravine and last Friday. In order to avoid unnecessary changes, we would have to take her along."

Chris stared at his counterpart, and eventually nodded. "I understand what you're saying, Emmett" he replied softly. "And you're right – it is better for all involved if we take her back with us. Rationally speaking, that is. But emotionally? Will she adjust? And what will the town think if you bring in a woman two months after I showed up with my family?"

"I'll adjust" Clara promised. "Whatever you are taking me to… Emmett, Mr. Wayne, I don't understand any of this, but even if we are going to go to a place that is very unlike all what I'm familiar with… well, I've always been curious at heart, wishing to explore everything, and I can't stand the thought of living without Emmett."

"Thank you, Clara" Doc said, smiling. "As for the neighbors – we could introduce Clara gradually. Even if she has no papers, it would be an aftershock at most after _your_ arrival just two months ago. And we could always use the machines to make sure the right evidence is planted at the places it should be in. Please, Chris. We _can't_ leave Clara behind right now. We should head right home, with her. If we leave her behind, out here in the wilderness with nothing to protect her from Tannen, she might die. I can't, I _won't_ stand for that."

The other inventor nodded curtly, contemplating everything, then turned to Mike. "How is Buford?"

"Still well behind us, but gaining ground" Mike replied. Guessing what his father was getting at, he added: "There's no way we can make it to safety in Hill Valley in time. And he is well-armed, and better at horseback than any of us. In the long run, I think it's pretty clear we're not going to win. So if you ask me, we'd better try to get out of this place as soon as possible."

"Et tu, Michael?" Chris muttered. "Fine, have it your way." He pulled on the reins of his horse, steering it into a different direction. "We're off towards Coyote Pass."

Mike smiled, and they soon headed towards the pass, Doc and Clara contently smiling at each other. Fortunately, they were fairly close to the pass, which was essential if they really wanted to have a chance at getting out of here anymore. The train needed to be stopped before the switch track, and then they would have to uncouple the carts from the tender, get the time machines up to 88 miles per hour, and off they would be.

As they neared the pass, Chris turned to his counterpart. "Emmett, go ahead to the machines and tend to Clara, explain everything to her. Mike, you come with me." Doc nodded, and the group soon split ways, with Chris and Mike heading towards the train together.

Fortunately, the train hadn't reached the pass yet, and using the horses the two rapidly accelerated over the railroad tracks. Chris managed to jump on first, and then carried Mike aboard. They stumbled over each other as they landed.

"Masks?" his father asked breathily. Mike nodded, pulling his one out of his coat. Chris nodded relieved – it wouldn't have been good if they had forgotten them in their rush – and started climbing the ladder onto the back cart before rapidly making his way towards the front. Mike followed him, but he had a hard time catching up. Chris had reached the wooden logs well before he had, and motioned for him to follow. "Come on, Mike!" The teen jumped after him, but even at that point Chris was already getting well ahead.

"All right, so you're a sixty-five-year-old who spends most of his time in his lab and I'm a teenager – why am _I_ the one who's having a hard time keeping up?" the teen muttered, continuing to muddle forwards.

Chris turned around and smirked. "At least partly because you waste too much time talking" he informed his son. "Masks on."

Mike nodded, and the two of them jumped into the room of the engineer. "Freeze!"

The man turned towards them and raised his hands, frightened. "Is this a hold-up?"

Mike and Chris exchanged glances. "It's a science experiment!" Chris eventually shouted, causing Mike to roll his eyes. "Stop the train before you get to the switch track up ahead!"

As it was, the train had just barely enough time to stop the locomotive before getting to the switch track. Before they fully came to a halt, Mike jumped out and ran over to the switch, which he managed to throw easily. He heard his father order the engineer and his assistant to uncouple the carts from the tender, the engine started howling again, the locomotive started moving forwards, Mike jumped on… and they were on their way.

"Mission accomplished" Mike said, beaming.

His father shot him a look. "Hardly."

oooooooo

Getting the fact that they were from the future explained to Clara was, all things said and done, fairly easy. Doc had shown her the flux capacitor and the time circuits, and although of course she had been dazed, Clara had been willing to accept the explanation, even saying that it was better than anything she could have come up with to explain their unusual behavior. She was willing to come along with them to the future, which was also very convenient.

However, that didn't stop Ann Parker from worrying, and rightfully so. Buford Tannen wasn't far behind them, and even if they had thrown him off their tail for a while by suddenly heading for the pass rather than the town, he would likely soon catch up. And then there was the matter of Calvin. The teen was still participating in everything – putting the horses aside, and getting the time machines ready – but was doing so numbly and slowly, and every time Ann looked into his eyes she was shocked about how little emotion there was present. She knew Lauren's betrayal couldn't have gone down well with him, but even so he was taking it harder than she had expected.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long for Chris and Mike to show up again inside the locomotive, which they slowed down beautifully until _just_ before it hit the second DeLorean. How they did it Ann didn't know, nor did she care – they had managed it and that was important. "Okay, now what?" she asked Doc.

"Now we throw in the Presto Logs" the inventor replied, getting some unusual colored stacks with numbers on them from the back of the DeLorean. "If all goes well, they should increase the train's speed significantly." He handed them over to his counterpart, who threw all of them in the furnace.

They had only just finished doing so when Marty, who was standing on lookout, let out a yelp. "Shit, it's Buford!" he shouted.

Clara gave him a very disapproving glare at his use of swearing, but she and the rest then made their way into their agreed positions. In the front DeLorean, which was Chris' and had just been taken along from 1985 (the one with the destroyed fuel injection manifold) Ann and Mike would go, at least at first, with Mike behind the wheel and Ann cautiously looking out for their friends behind them. The second DeLorean, Doc's, would contain Marty (behind the wheel), Clara, and Calvin, whose emotional state wasn't too good right now but could still be trusted to keep an eye on their friends. Chris and Doc, being the ones best suited to control the locomotive, would stay on there and eventually join them when the train and the DeLoreans were on their way. The plan sounded incredibly risky to Ann, especially since they were going to need two DeLoreans, but they had practiced climbing over the roofs which was difficult but doable, and if worst came to worst, they had the hoverboard. Or at least, they _could_ have the hoverboard, because currently it was just sticking into Ann's side and being a nuisance. Now that was crappy planning.

Nevertheless, there was little she could do about it anymore. Just then, Marty shouted "Ready to roll!" and as Ann peered backwards she could see the train was beginning to move – far too slowly, in her opinion. She couldn't see Buford yet, and really hoped that the sight of the locomotive and the two otherworldly carriages had made him stare at them dumbfounded for a few seconds. They needed all the time they could get right now.

She soon forgot about all that as the train hit the second DeLorean with a clear bump, and the latter hit their DeLorean a second later. The wheels started rolling, and they were on their way. Mike and Ann exchanged a glance and looked at the speedometer. It was climbing – slowly, but it was climbing.

"Think Buford's already there?" Mike asked.

Ann shrugged. "I certainly hope not" she replied. "I wish we'd had some way to avoid this. Not just the threat from Buford, but this entire crazy train scheme."

"What else _could_ we do?" Mike argued. "I mean, sure, we may have made some mistakes along the way, and perhaps if we had taken some more time to think about it this wouldn't have been the only option, but it certainly is now."

Ann sighed. "You're right" she said, taking out the walkie-talkie. It was fortunately basic equipment that was brought along as a standard in the time machines, but there was a catch – they only had the one pair along, which had been distributed to the front DeLorean and the occupants of the train as they had counted on being able to shout to the second DeLorean. None of that mattered right now, though, as Ann didn't need to talk to the occupants of the other car. "Doc!" she yelled into the walkie-talkie. "Chris! Is Buford still a threat out there?!"

Mike flinched at the noise, but there was no response for a few seconds and Ann was about to raise her voice and yell again when the gadget burst to life. "We don't think so" Chris replied. "Of course, we can't exactly see the back of the train from here, nor can we judge his reactions to our appearance here, but I would think that the prospect of jumping on a moving train might give him food for thought, causing him to hesitate long enough to be unable to stop us. Then again, we should not underestimate him nor presume that we will be completely safe here, and although we are preparing the Presto Logs Emmett and I don't think the time is ripe for actually inserting them yet, and until we do throw them in the train will be moving at a rather slow speed which of course we have a hard time deciphering from here as the train itself doesn't have a convenient digital speedometer like…"

"Is he still a threat?" Ann interrupted, having gotten bored.

"…we hope not. At least, we're doing everything we can to prevent it."

"Thank you." Ann broke the connection and gave Mike a wry sigh. "Speed?"

"Nearing twenty" her friend replied. "Man, if these trains always have such a hard time getting up to any decent velocity then I'm really glad I don't have to use them to get around in 1985."

Ann smirked. "You're just spoiled from flying the DeLorean all the time. But we're at twenty now."

Mike nodded, and then frowned. "But I think we're sticking there." He stared at the speedometer, which had clicked to 21 and after some time to 22 but didn't seem inclined to move up much further, at least, not at the speed that they wanted it to. "We're moving at twenty-two miles per hour Dad!" he yelled into the walkie-talkie.

"All right, we're throwing in the Presto Logs!" Chris yelled. "You can see the results on the new readout on the dashboard. You know how they work, right?"

"Only that we're in for some violent explosions" Mike recalled. "Oh, and that the needle probably shouldn't get past 2000!"

"That's an understatement!" Chris replied. "If we get past that range, the whole boiler will explode!"

"Perfect" Ann muttered.

"Are the time circuits on?" Chris then added.

"On and ready for setting" Mike said. "What time do you think we should aim for?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the walkie-talkie burst to life again. "Eleven PM would be fine" Chris said. "After all, that is the time you left, and we would be a long way from our house and we wouldn't want to leave our family worried for too long… Destination: December 24th, 1985, 11:00 PM!"

"Check, Dad!" Mike replied, putting in the coordinates. "Hey Dad, we just hit thirty!"

"We'll be with you in a minute!" Chris replied, and Ann couldn't tell whether she had just imagined it or whether he had really muttered: "We hope" after that. If he had, it would have been a fairly good point. She opened her car door and looked out towards the train, half keeping an eye on the boiler temperature gauge.

As she looked out, she could see that Chris and Doc were indeed getting out of the cab and cautiously holding onto the train's sides for dear life. Ann could sympathize with them, as it was presumably pretty scary to just hang on there, moving forwards slowly along the grinding wheels of the locomotive. She strained her neck to look beyond them on the train, but couldn't see anybody, and shrugged. Now that was fortunate.

Probably because they saw her looking, there was some murmuring inside the second DeLorean and Calvin opened the gull-wing door as well. Ann avoided staring at him, which would inevitably turn awkward. Instead, she turned back inside and let out a shriek as she saw the boiler gauge. She quickly took the walkie-talkie. "Doc! Chris! The green log's about to blow!"

Their friends braced themselves, and only just in time – a violent explosion occurred on the train, and suddenly the locomotive was pushing them with renewed and increased vigor. Ann and Mike stared with amazement as the speedometer climbed up to 35 and went past it in a much faster speed than it would have done before. Although Mike remained mostly stunned, Ann had a worried look on her face. "I hope everything turns out fine" she muttered. "This is not my ideal speed for climbing along trains."

"I know… and I doubt there is an ideal speed for that" Mike replied. "Keep the hoverboard ready." He turned back to the speedometer, then as it occurred to him, added: "Oh, and tell the others about the destination time. They may have already guessed it, but you never know."

Ann nodded, and stuck her face out of the DeLorean. She looked at Doc and Chris with concern. Her friends were climbing slowly and cautiously, but she knew it could easily go wrong, causing them to plunge to their deaths below. She shuddered, and tried to ignore that detail, instead clinging to the hoverboard tightly. She turned to the other DeLorean, which fortunately still had the gull-wing door open, and shouted: "Have you set the destination time yet?"

"The _what_?" Calvin replied.

"The destination!" Ann shouted back. "The – December 24th, 11 PM!"

"11 PM?"

"Yeah!"

Calvin seemed to get it, as he turned inside and appeared to be giving some instructions to his friends. Ann breathed a sigh of relief and stared back at Doc and Chris, who were nearing the front of the train through good team work. Everything was going fine, the train was pushing forwards at great speeds, and…

Wait. Was that…

The man climbing along the logs still on the wagon, gun clenched in his hand, could only be one person, and although she barely got a good look at him before he jumped into the cab, the quick glimpse she got confirmed her worst suspicions. "It's Buford!" she shouted. "He's…"

She could barely finish her sentence before the yellow log blew and the train put in another burst of speed. Yellow steam started pouring out of the engine of the train and Ann had to duck back in as the pressure was pushing her back into her seat. The DeLorean rapidly sped past 40, nearing and passing 45. For a moment Ann forgot all about the threat behind them, but not for long. As they got back to a slightly more usual speed she regained her senses and turned out to look again. Before she could do so, though, a shot split the air.

Everybody jerked their heads up, and as Ann looked out of the car she could see Buford, who had managed to climb forwards with surprising speed, hold her friends at gunpoint.

"This was what you were going to say, wasn't it?" Mike whispered. Ann nodded. "What can we do?"

Ann, barely thinking, took the hoverboard in response and set it down next to the car. She rested her feet on it and got out, clinging onto the time machine closely. "What are you doing?" Mike hissed.

"I don't know" Ann hissed back, as she started making her way towards the train, her walkie-talkie still clutched in her hand. A plan was shaping in her brain, a plan crazy enough that it might just work. Buford wasn't paying attention anyway, being too busy to keep Doc and Chris at gunpoint and surviving holding onto the train. If she could sneak up to him, throw the walkie-talkie at his gun, and knock it clear out of his hand… now that would change the dynamics. She held onto the back of the first DeLorean tightly, stared anxiously at Calvin, then let go and quickly managed to grab the second DeLorean near where the passenger door was opened. Calvin, who was now behind her, cast her a look that was still moody but also slightly concerned – but Ann wasn't one to trifle with that. For once, everything was going pretty well… although the speedometer in the car showed that they were now well past 50, so she had to hurry. But that was going to work, too. All she had to do was aim and…

…and then a gunshot rang, knocking the walkie-talkie out of _her_ hand. The device fell on top of the DeLorean, then slid down and was crushed to nothingness under the wheels of the train.

"Did you really think I didn't see yer approach?" Buford said. "You silly girl. Now, I'd like to take a closer look at you, but I'm afraid this is hardly the time for that."

"How sad" Ann replied, laying as much hateful sarcasm into her voice as she could.

Buford ignored her tone of voice. "Certainly. So," and he raised his gun at her, causing her to gasp from surprise, "I'm afraid you're first."

Ann simply stared down the barrel of the gun, clinging onto the DeLorean and unable to believe that this was truly happening. For all her harsh exterior, she was still queasy regarding death, and this was a situation few people would retain their cool in. However, the facts around her made her impending death impossible to deny. Chris had paled, Doc looked internally torn between trying to do something and just standing there being shocked, and from the corner of her eye Ann could notice Calvin looking at the situation with shock – but different shock, no longer the same shell-shocked state he had been in for the last half hour. Her mind registered that his face went from that shock into a firm determination. She wondered why… not that it would matter anymore in just a few seconds. Buford was pulling the trigger…

And then the world exploded.

Well, to say the world exploded might be a slight exaggeration – in reality, all what happened was that the red log blew, and with it, so did the boiler of the train. The train burst into a jolt of speed, Doc and Chris lost their footholds and barely clung onto the side bars, and Buford was just about blown off. He clung to the rail bar for only a few seconds before falling off the train. Ann was strangely fortunate in not having to watch his fate due to coming to a fate of her own – the explosion had blown her backwards, nearly toppling her, and the second DeLorean rising up into the air, with only the link between its front bumper and the first DeLorean's back end preventing it from crushing that DeLorean, succeeded in doing that for real. She screamed…

And just then a pair of hands tightly grabbed the sides of her chest, dragging her inside with such a force that she entered safely.

Ann looked into the flustered face of Calvin McFly, who had just saved her life. He was staring at her, still in shock, but also immensely relieved. "Ann…" he whispered. "I… you…"

In response, she simply nodded, sat up, and as if powered by some unseen force leaned in towards her savior. He didn't resist and moved closer, unable and unwilling to stop as their lips tou…

"Calvin! Ann! Do you really think this is the right time to resolve your feelings?"

That was Marty, and although he had been fairly bold and Clara, who was sitting in-between them, gave him a slightly disapproving look (moderated by the fact that she of course agreed with the statement) he was right, and they knew it. Calvin and Ann blinked and quickly came to their senses. "Sorry, Marty" Calvin apologized, glancing at the speedometer which had just clicked to seventy. He leaned out of the car, which had stabilized into a ground position again. "Doc! Chris! We're going to slip you the hoverboard!"

Ann nodded, bewildered. Of course, they needed to save their friends from death, and it was a brilliant plan, only… "The rope" she whispered. She stuck her head out of the car and yelled towards the front DeLorean as loudly as she could. "Mike! The rope!"

"What?" came the response. "Why… oh!" There was a brief pause, and then Mike shuffled over to the passenger's seat (after all, there wasn't much steering to do right now anyway), gathered the rope together, and threw the end towards her. For a split second she imagined it landing either under the car, to be crushed by its wheels or worse derailing both cars and the train, but fortunately she managed to catch the end and lean back inside. "Now I'm glad Doc and Chris are the worst packrats in the world" she muttered, tying the rope's end to the hoverboard.

Calvin nodded. "I hope Mike has something to tie the other end to."

"He'd better" Ann said. She checked her work, felt that it was _reasonably_ solid and would _probably_ hold out, then let Calvin set it down. "All right, Doc? Chris? Ready?" The two nodded. "Catch it!"

The hoverboard hovered off, barely restrained by the rope, and to Ann's immense relief, Doc was able to catch it with his foot, then provided aid for Chris to get on the thing as well. It would probably be better if they had time to let them go individually, but they hadn't. The two inventors started making their way over to the DeLorean, helped by Mike tugging desperately and Calvin and Ann doing everything they could to move the rope along. They worked as hard as they could, and with supreme effort, they got Chris and Doc to the car. Just as they got there, Ann cast a look at the speedometer.

Eighty miles per hour.

Mike's yell the next second of "Ravine in sight!" didn't do much to cheer any of them up. Doc tumbled into the DeLorean, which really wasn't intended to seat five people. He was practically climbing on top of them and Calvin and Ann were squeezed (un)pleasantly close to each other. Chris simply wouldn't fit. Instead, he staggered on, as Mike resumed pulling and his father continued to push himself forward with all his strength.

Doc managed to pull their gullwing door closed with another supreme effort, and all inhabitants of the second DeLorean allowed themselves to catch their breaths. Ann stared anxiously up front, for as far as she could, knowing there was little she could do – there was even little she could see of the threatening ravine. But she definitely sensed that it was getting nearer. The sparks that started to cover the DeLoreans (primarily the second one, though) were making that fact obvious as well. When Chris arrived at the DeLorean's open door, the car was at eighty-five miles per hour and he had to dive through the sparks to get inside. Ann thought he probably got burned – and that couldn't healthy. But as long as they got back to the future alive, none of that would matter. With a time machine, pretty much anything would be possible again.

The hoverboard was dragged in on Chris' feet, the front DeLorean's gullwing door shut and the speedometer hit eighty-six. That, and Doc's unnecessary "brace yourselves", prepared them for the event that hit them once more. After the speedometer clicked from eighty-six through eighty-seven to eighty-eight, the flux capacitor lit up, the front of the car was covered with electricity, and in sextuple sonic booms, the two time machines were transported back to the future.

The train, which had been left behind, went on but not for much longer. It hit the end-of-track sign a few seconds after the DeLoreans had been transported and gracefully chugged on as it went over the edge, parts exploding due to after-effects from the Presto Logs. It was one of the most significant changes to history, one which Doc and Chris would have preferred not to make in order to keep the timeline slightly more the way it should be.

But it had happened, and it wasn't going to turn into a disaster, so none of that mattered anymore. The six time travelers (and one Clara) were home at last.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note:_ Back to regularly-scheduled updates. And although rereading the last scene it does sound like it's heading towards a (preliminary) conclusion, the story isn't over yet. Please read and review!

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Tuesday, December 24, 1985  
11:00 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California

The return to the future in sudden darkness shocked everyone, most of all Clara, because in all the hectic events that had just occurred, they simply hadn't been thinking of the little detail that it was generally dark by 11 PM. Calvin looked around, feeling utterly dazed from all what had just happened. "Are we back?" he whispered.

"It certainly appears to be so" Doc replied, as the two DeLoreans rolled on towards a standstill. "It is rather dark outside, but I can see some streetlights and the time circuits appear to be functioning properly – not to mention the fact that the other DeLorean also came to this exact time." He gave the others a wry smile. "And in any case, I could imagine that you would care less for if we were home as long as you could get _out_."

"Yes, as long as there isn't a train coming at us from the other direction…" Ann murmured.

The inventor chuckled. "Don't worry" he reassured her. "I'm fairly sure the last regular train passed through here about an hour ago, and night trains only come over this stretch very rarely." He turned to Clara, who was looking at everything being rather dazed. "Are you all right, dear?"

"A bit overwhelmed" Clara admitted. "From that perspective, it's good that we came here at night. I can imagine that seeing whatever has changed between my time and yours in full daylight would be fairly shocking."

"Probably" Calvin said. He smiled faintly as the DeLoreans both came to a complete halt, and wondered why he wasn't feeling anymore upset from the break-up with Lauren. Well, he supposed he knew, as he gave Ann a goofy smile and she, though reluctantly, returned the favor. Could all this really be happening?

It was happening, of course it was, but the gull-wing doors being opened distracted Calvin from it. Marty got out first, after which the others had to climb either through his or through the other door out of the DeLorean. Calvin noticed that Chris and Mike were watching the proceeding with some amusement. At least they hadn't been pressed up tight in the car – but, well, he certainly didn't envy Chris for the hardship he'd just gone through when climbing into it in the first place. There were as always two sides to the same coin.

"So…" Marty began. "Now what? How are we going to get the DeLoreans back home?"

"And _inconspicuously_?" Mike added.

"That's a very good question" Chris replied. "Fortunately, I have already given the matter some thought." He looked disoriented, dazed, and probably wasn't entirely all right yet, but he was still very much capable of giving a speech in response. "As you know, the cars are out of gas, so we can't drive them over the edge of the track and back on the road, not to mention that we wouldn't want to push them all the way."

"We probably could have gotten around that first part, though" Marty suggested. "If we had simply steered the cars off the tracks while still driving, we wouldn't have had to worry about that part anymore."

"If it had gone all right" Chris replied, wryly. "Getting the cars off the tracks while still driving would have been dangerous. Remember the trouble we went through loading the DeLoreans on the tracks in the first place? We didn't just do all that because we had little gas to spare. Not to mention the difficulty of getting two cars off!"

"Maybe," Marty admitted, "but there was still the link between the DeLoreans to help us out on that last part, right?"

"Possibly" Doc agreed. "That doesn't mean that couldn't go wrong, though. Getting two cars off individually, though difficult, might have been easier than getting two who are attached, as one project going wrong would have inevitably doomed the other. Of course, given the close proximity of one to the other, that would have been likely in the other scenario too, but well, never mind that right now. The cars are on the tracks, they aren't moving, and we need to get them off. Chris?"

"Thanks, Emmett" Chris said. "The solution is very simple. We just rent a tow truck. Although it might be difficult at this time of night, and hardly inconspicuous, it is the best option to get the cars off the track fast."

"Sure" Mike said. "And how do we get that tow truck? Is there a pay phone nearby?"

"I believe so" Chris replied. "Mike, why don't you take the hoverboard over to Emmett's house, tell everyone the basics of what happened, and ask them for help. Meanwhile, Emmett and I can go over and try to find a phone… that'll probably take a while, too. The rest of you can just stay here. Would that be all right with you?"

"It certainly would be with me" Clara muttered. "Although part of me is curious to see all that has changed, the other part would prefer to stay here for a while and let everything that has happened sink in first." Doc sent her a sympathetic look. "This is going to take quite a while to adjust to."

"I wouldn't expect anything else" Chris said. "I suppose you're going to move in with Emmett," Clara looked aghast for a second, even if understanding dawned on her fairly soon, "but I'm sure the rest of us will try to support and help you."

"Thank you" Clara whispered.

With that, the conversation seemed to be coming to a conclusion. Mike, who had already taken the hoverboard, skated away, while Doc and Chris took off a moment later. Calvin looked after them before walking over to the front DeLorean. It was hard to believe that they were back now… that they were going to be safe… or at least, he hoped they would be. Chris hadn't looked all right.

Then, he felt the sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped. Laughter was the immediate result, and Calvin felt a mix of anger and embarrassment as he turned around. Ann Parker stared at him, an amused grin on her face which faded when Calvin's features remained constant. "Did I startle you?" she said teasingly.

Calvin nodded. "Yeah… but I'm fine now." He sighed. "I was just thinking about everything, what with all that's happened. Hard to believe we're really back. Considering all that time I spent back in the Old West, between the time machines being broken and Buford being a threat, I had a hard time believing we were ever going to make it out alive. And I'm still not sure about Chris."

"He'll be fine" Ann replied, unshaken as ever. "If he got seriously hurt by those sparks, future medicine will make sure he'll recover. Once the DeLorean is back in working order, he's got no threat to his life left. You should be more worried about your own life, and your own future."

The male teen blushed. "That does sound pretty selfish to me" he pointed out. "I mean, I was the one this whole madness started about. So for me to go on worrying after I've plunged you in all this trouble would be…"

Ann sighed. "Calvin, you don't learn your lesson, do you? All of the reasons to care about whether you live or die are still valid, so don't give me any of that. Besides, Doc has gotten Clara and you got me, so it's not like this trip was all for nothing…" She stopped, noticing him looking at her peculiarly. "What?"

"I got you?" Calvin repeated, numbly. "You mean, in a relationship-way? But you said…"

"That we should try other things first" Ann said. "Yes, I said that, and we did that, you more than I did. But what you had with Lauren didn't work out, did it? And you did save my life on the DeLorean, and even I won't deny that was romantic. So I think it's about time to give you and me a try…" she leaned in closer "…if you want to, of course."

Calvin continued to stare awkwardly at her, but finally he smiled. "I certainly don't mind" he whispered, gently embracing her. Ann returned the gesture, they stared into each other's eyes and…

Marty coughed audibly, causing them to startle and part again. "I knew there was something between you two" he said, walking up. "So, are you going to date now?"

Calvin blushed; Ann bristled. "Marty, just mind your own business" she replied coldly.

Marty shrugged, unnerved. "Well, Calvin is my twin brother, and you're my twin's sister, so this is partly my business as well" he pointed out. "And what's the harm in me staying here? Keeping an eye on you?"

"Actually, I think the lady has a point, Lewis" Clara said, softly.

"Marty" Marty corrected her.

"That's irrelevant" Clara replied. "How would you feel if you were just starting to date somebody, and you were nervous around it, reluctant, and somebody else was continuously watching you?" She sighed. "I know how my parents behaved when I was your age – the suitors they had in mind for me weren't the ones I would have voluntarily chosen to marry anyway, but whenever we tried to bond our parents were always trying to check upon us, see if we were moving towards marriage and behaved ourselves in general. Surely you can manage some restraint around your brother. Do you have a lady friend yourself?"

Marty nodded. "You've got a point" he reluctantly agreed. "I guess I just felt so comfortable and at ease when I started dating Jennifer that I couldn't fully get Calvin's need for privacy. I understood he wanted some of it, but I guess I didn't take his request as seriously as I possibly should have."

Calvin frowned. "Marty, it's not just because you were never nervous" he pointed out. "Sure, we were fairly comfortable when we started dating Jennifer, but I certainly remember worrying whether she liked me, or whether I was prepared enough when we'd go out on a date."

Marty glared at him, then sighed. "There's the joy in having a twin brother who's also you – you can't say anything about your past without having it be thrown back into your face." He stared up into the night air before turning back to them and gradually smiling. "But I get the hint. I'll try to leave you alone from now on. It's just that _because_ you are so much like me and Ann is so much like Jennifer, I feel that I'm already involved."

"Of course you are involved, Marty" Ann said. "You're Calvin's brother and you're dating my sister, so I can't stop you from keeping track of our relationship… if it develops. That doesn't mean we appreciate you watching or regularly commenting."

Marty nodded quietly, and walked back to the car where he leaned back into the driver's seat. He closed his eyes, and Clara was also looking down. Calvin stared after them, his mind dazed. Did they have privacy now? Did they want privacy? What did they want? Was there even any 'they' to speak of?

Ann clearing her throat brought him back to the subject at hand. She stared at Calvin and smiled, which lit up her charming and beautiful face. "So…"

Calvin stared back, and finally broke into a genuine grin, the first in days if not weeks. "So, let's do this" he replied, and leaned in to kiss her. Ann returned the favor, and they kissed passionately. The sense of familiarity, of ease, confirmed it. This, more than Lauren, more even than Jennifer, was what Calvin McFly really wanted. Now all he needed was a life he could enjoy it in.

oooooooo

Mike uneasily hoverboarded up the lanes leading to the Brown mansion. On one hand, he had just returned from a long journey – on another hand, he had just left. That was going to be awkward, along with the fact that he didn't really know what he should expect from the people he was meeting. History had changed from what they had done in 1885. There wasn't a newspaper article about Dad, Doc and Calvin being murdered anymore (even though he hadn't checked yet what it had been replaced by). There probably wasn't a Clayton Ravine anymore either, and although he hadn't got the faintest idea what else could have changed, it was very well possible that the family who would be living in this house would be strangers to him.

He stopped the hoverboard, walked the final steps and then rang the doorbell. Within ten seconds he heard feet stepping through the hallway and very soon thereafter the door opened to reveal his mother. Mike barely had the time to realize it was her before she tightly hugged him. "Honey! You're back…"

"I only just left" Mike pointed out, although he was wondering whether that was still the case here.

Susan Brown nodded. "I know, I know, I just can't imagine what you have gone through… it could have been an extremely long adventure, but it might have been a dull and quick trip as well, so I'm covering all bases." She smirked and let go of him. "But considering that you're ringing the bell here rather than returning up from the basement, and nobody else is with you, I'm sure the simplest version of the story isn't true."

"That's right" Mike said. "Let's get inside for a moment, and I'll tell all of you the basic tale of what happened. Just rest assured that everybody is alive and well – that we know of – there have just been unexpected difficulties."

Susan frowned, but still nodded in turn and they walked down the hallway to the living room. Mike found himself staring at the familiar walls, lights and decoration of the house, so mundane here in 1985 and yet so utterly alien to the world of 1885 where he had just come from. He wondered what Clara would think of it.

As he entered the living room, he greeted the others (Marty and Calvin's parents, as well as Jennifer and Claudia who had apparently come over in the meantime) before sitting down next to the latter. It was good to see his sister again, even if he had seen Ann for a long time and she looked the spitting image of her.

After taking a snack which he remembered being on the table before he left a few days ago, Mike launched into an extremely summarized version of his tale. How they had managed to get both cars broken down, and then had come up with the train plan. How Marty had had to face off against Buford (he left out most details when he noticed how shocked George and Lorraine got at that basic fact alone) and how they had managed to safely get home (again leaving out significant details about the dangers they had faced) with Calvin and Ann more or less in love, and with Doc having met a girl. His mother especially looked stunned at that news, and whistled as the story was finally over. "Clara Clayton. I always wanted to meet the one other Clayton family member who got famous in Hill Valley, and now I finally get to meet her in the flesh."

"I still don't entirely get how you can recall something while we don't" Jennifer said. "I agree it would be cool to meet her, though. So, where are they now?"

"Considering it hasn't been all that long since I left, they're probably still busy getting the tow truck" Mike said. "In fact, that's partly why I came here – we're going to need all the help we can get to get the cars both back into the garage inconspicuously. I certainly hope Dad won't be tempted to start the repair right away, but you know how he is…"

Susan and Claudia chuckled. "I doubt Dad would try to repair the car _right_ away, Mike" the latter pointed out. "He'd probably wait until we get back here, have a brief conversation with us, then work all night to repair it despite everything he's just been through. He – and Doc, I suppose – really are the worst workaholics I've ever met."

"Then you haven't really met our eldest yet" Lorraine replied. "I still can't imagine how in Calvin's timeline, he was working at Burger King. The Dave I know certainly wouldn't want to be caught working at a place like that. I suppose that when you're as poor as we were, there wouldn't have been much of a choice. Anyway, better a workaholic than lazy."

"And that's what we're being, given that we're sitting here listening to Mike tell us his adventures while really we should be getting out there to help save the situation" Susan concluded. She stood up and got her coat, while Mike, getting the hint, put his own back on. "Anyone want to join us?"

oooooooo

As it turned out, the others all volunteered to join, probably as they would feel uncomfortable and guilty staying behind. The group headed back to the railroad tracks in their cars, which got them there in a few minutes. When they got there, the tow truck was already present and Chris, Doc, Marty and Calvin were busy attaching the front DeLorean to the crane while Ann was trying to give them instructions. Mike's return brought a welcome relief from that and all of them spared a few moments being reunited with their significant others or parents. George and Lorraine hugged their sons so hard that it got from warm through kind of embarrassing to bone-crushing, while Chris had a less exuberant but just as warm reunification with his family. Clara and Susan stared at each other with amazement for nearly a full minute, which wasn't aided by the fact that Clara nearly fainted at the sight of her near-identical counterpart. Fortunately, differences in hair and eye color made it easy to tell them apart and the work soon resumed.

Everything was ready for the drive home just minutes before the late night train. After going through the place once more and making sure nothing was left behind, the Brown and McFly families all returned to Doc Brown's mansion. After getting the DeLoreans back into the garage with a lot of maneuvering, it was nearing one A.M. when the entire group finally sat down inside and had something to drink. Calvin noticed that Clara had remained mostly quiet the entire time, and when she finally spoke up the entire room got silent at once.

"What did you say, Clara?" Susan asked.

Clara smiled at her counterpart. "I was just telling Emmett how amazing everything is here" she whispered. "The luxury, the space, the friendliness of the people… it's fascinating."

"Then it's a good thing you didn't meet me three months earlier" Doc muttered. "It's funny how quick a person can go from being lonely to having a rich life so soon… no offense to you of course, Marty and Calvin. I always did appreciate your company."

"I still can't get over how you two are the same person" Clara marveled. "Of course you look alike, but I've known many identical twins where I live, I mean _when_ I _lived_ … that sounds awkward… and they all had distinct personalities, and so do you, so it's just extremely hard to grasp."

"I understand" Calvin said. "I still can't get that Marty is, well, Marty. But that's the way it is, and we are genetically the same person… unfortunately."

Ann put an arm around her newfound boyfriend's shoulders. "Calvin, you're doing it again. You're being too pessimistic. Everything will be fine, just trust that it will be. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything, right?"

"Says the biggest cynic in town" Marty said. Ann shot him a dirty look.

"Calvin, Ann is right" Doc said. "I can't promise anything, but when the time machines are at our disposal again – and that shouldn't take too long – we're going to do everything we can to fix your problem permanently, or at least as permanently as we can manage. And you needn't worry that your health will run out for the next few days, because even in the worst-case scenario this temporal journey will have set you straight on that point. I could even offer you a test with the Ripple Effect Indicator right now to prove it."

"No, that's all right" Calvin replied. "I guess I'm just tired and gloomy. It may have been only eight or nine in the morning when we left, but I didn't sleep all too well that night and I'm feeling ever more exhausted."

"Yeah, I can understand that" Chris said, sighing. "Even I lay awake at nights some time the past days. Do you want to borrow the alpha-rhythm sleep inducing generator to ensure you get a good night's rest this time around? It might not appear that way, but in fact it is probably a lot safer than sleeping pills."

"Nah, I think I can do without" Calvin said, managing a smile. "If I used the inducer, I'd probably end up sleeping through the day… and I wouldn't want that either, especially since tomorrow is Christmas."

Susan chuckled. "Would you believe I'd forgotten all about that? I just got so swept up in the hectic of the past days…" George and Lorraine gave understanding nods. "I don't even think I got you presents, Mike and Claudia."

"We understand, Mom" Claudia said, putting an arm around her mother. "After all that's happened, I'm just glad Dad and the others are safe and sound. Presents are the last thing that we should be worrying about right now."

"Exactly" Mike agreed, before smirking and quipping: "You can always make up for it at our birthdays."

"Mike!" Claudia scolded her brother, chuckling. "That's really not a nice thing to say."

"Oh, let him, Claudia" Susan replied, a smile on her face. "I'm just glad I'll probably still have a son to give presents to come June 9th – and a husband to share it with me." She squeezed Chris' hand. "And I'll try to make it up to you kids."

"We can help you with that, Susan" Lorraine said kindly. "What with George making plenty of money from his book, we should have some to spare for your kids when they turn 18 – especially since one of them is kind of our kid as well." She shook her head. "I can definitely relate to you on that, Clara – we've become a strange bunch over the last months."

"I can't even begin to anticipate what other strangeness I might encounter" Clara replied, grinning. "But are you an author then, Mr. McFly?"

George beamed. "Yes, I am" he said. "I write science fiction – I'll have to let you read some of my work soon. I've written some short stories over the years, but only last year did I get my first real novel published, based on what happened to me and Lorraine in 1955 with Marty's or Calvin's or Marty _and_ Calvin's involvement. Has Dr. Brown told you any of that?"

"Not really" Clara said. "Only that he first completed the time machine in the past year and that there was some kind of journey by Marty or Calvin to 1955… he might have told me more, but by that time I was still so baffled at the mere idea of speaking so casually about years in the 20th Century that it must have slipped my mind. I hope Emmett will tell me more about that soon." She smiled at the inventor. "And of course, I'd love to read your book. If it's anything like Jules Verne…"

George blushed. "I don't think I could compare myself to an author that great, but I hope you'll like it anyway" he replied. "But perhaps your fiancée" – the word made both Doc and Clara blush – "should teach you some basic cultural stuff first, or it might be a confusing read."

"Well, first things first" Doc said, putting an arm around Clara's shoulders. "I don't think it will be too much work to have Clara move in, but we'll have to arrange for other details such as ID papers and a wedding location. Fortunately, we already had the worst of that when Chris and Susan moved in, so in comparison, this should be a breeze."

"Don't get your hopes up, Emmett" Chris replied. "There will be plenty of difficulties along the road. But as long as we all stick together, I agree that it should work out fine. Of course, we'll need the time machines back in working order for a lot of that."

"I don't think you'll need them for the wedding preparations, though" Marty pointed out, seeing how eagerly the inventor was already thinking about getting back to work on fixing the cars. He shook his head. "It's going to be so strange to see Doc get married. I mean, it already felt like that when you and Susan did last month, but… well, this is for real. This is _my_ Doc getting married."

" _Your_ Doc?" the addressee said with a grin. "I didn't think I was anyone's Doc per se… but I get your point. I can hardly believe it myself." He turned sideways. "And then I look at Clara and can't think of anything else anymore."

The women cooed, whereas the men in the room had a decidedly less sappy reaction. Nevertheless, Clara was touched and drew close to the inventor. Calvin looked at them, smiled, and at that moment had faith that it would all work out fine.

Fine for everyone, except perhaps for himself. As much as he had been told not to worry, and as much as he scolded himself for having doubts about what Doc and Chris would be able to do for him yet again, he still felt nervous. Yes, he had faith in Doc and Chris, and even in Mike, as good inventors and friends who would do anything they could. And certainly, they had rescued him from dangerous situations several times before – the scene with the clock tower came in mind, and there had been a few occasions in Biff's world where things hadn't looked good for him either. And even though the whole thing of prolonging his life by time jumps hadn't worked out entirely the way it should, it still provided him with some reprieve and time for them to think up something solid. They could do it, he knew they could. But yet, he felt nervous. Perhaps not nervous enough to stay awake at night, or nervous enough to think about it all the time and spoil his fun, but the undercurrent of nervousness remained there. The feeling that perhaps this time, his luck would run out and he wouldn't get salvaged from the brink of destruction. That perhaps this time, he would die. And as much as he told himself not to worry, Calvin knew that it would take something big to dispel his worries altogether.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.**

 _Author's Note:_ New chapter. Some plot development. Better than it sounds. Please read and review!

Oh, and next chapter will be the final one, just so you know.

 **Chapter Fourteen**

Tuesday, December 31, 1985  
04:30 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California

The days after their long and difficult adventure passed like a blur, especially because of the holiday season that his parents still attempted to let go on like planned. Calvin and Marty both slept in on Christmas Day and thus had a well-deserved rest, whereas Lorraine managed to get them all a good Christmas dinner and a joyous holiday. The day also saw a remarkable absence of contact with the Browns, as unlike in other years neither Calvin nor Marty went over to them to visit. They didn't call them either, and although Calvin did have moments where he wished that Doc was there, he supposed it was for the best. Lorraine was pretty adamant on staying home as a family this Christmas, George had backed her on that, and Calvin and Marty could understand that she didn't want to part with them again so soon after all that had happened. Their parents liked the Browns, but after that mad adventure they definitely wanted some time to themselves.

Jennifer Parker was there, of course, as was Ann. Calvin couldn't help but smile every time he thought of her. It was so strange to have a girlfriend again, especially one who bore a stunning resemblance to Jennifer. Whenever they were together, and it was quiet and secluded, Calvin could turn himself off from the outside world. Imagine she was Jennifer, and the world was back the way it was before October 26th 1985, a world he occasionally felt some strange feeling of nostalgia to, the one where he still felt he belonged due to having only memories of that past (although that idea was fading gradually). And when Ann looked particularly like Jennifer – meaning she wasn't wearing clothes that Jennifer would never wear, or had a hairstyle that his former girlfriend would have never even considered – Calvin felt at home again.

There was much more to them, though. Ann was witty, clever in her own way, cynical yet able to support him when needed, able to talk him out of the highest optimism and the lowest despair. Of course, it was the last part he needed most right now, and Ann knew her usual pessimism wasn't fit for Calvin right now. Instead, she just put an arm around him and listened, nodding along when he complained but not making protests or saying everything was going to turn out fine. She had done that several times before their relationship began, because she happened to have a very stubborn nature and when she was convinced something would turn out right she would argue for that as viciously as when she was convinced it would not. But she had mellowed down on that, at least from the outside. For his sake.

Calvin tried to remain optimistic that day, and even smiled occasionally. It helped that he couldn't do much else, as Grandpa and Grandma McFly dropped by later in the afternoon and they, like Dave and Linda who were of course present constantly, didn't know why he was gloomy. And so he had to keep a straight face by default, nod along as they ensured him that high school was going to turn out fine, and (from Linda) that he was making a fool of himself. Only by the end of the evening had some minor provocation caused him to burst into tears and let all the stress go, which his parents had fortunately been able to explain as emotion from having the first Christmas with his real family.

In the days thereafter life had calmed down. His parents had gotten him some last-minute presents which only showed up on the twenty-sixth, but for which he was grateful nevertheless. He had tried to spend as much time as possible doing stuff, either hanging out with Marty or watching TV or even catching up with his school work. Of course he had continued to date Ann as well, but they had only gone out one time to some restaurant, and all the talking in the world hadn't allowed Ann to distract Calvin fully. He kept having the thought of erasure in the back of his mind, and the latest tests from the ripple effect indicator weren't promising. They hinted that though the time jumps might prolong his lifespan, the effect would be getting less and less with each jump they made, and even now his projected death date was just about four to five months away. It was hardly an encouraging thought, and Chris and Doc had tried to hide the information from Calvin at first but he had stumbled upon it by accident. He spent that night with Ann at his own home, where she and his family desperately attempted to comfort him, but failed miserably.

And then at last another great activity arrived, the day they were due to return to the Brown house for the first time since their return from 1885 – New Year's Eve. Calvin had a good night's sleep and slept in well that morning, and thereafter he and Marty spent much of the morning and early afternoon hanging out, practicing their music, or writing something (or rather Calvin writing something and Marty commenting). Calvin's idea of a science-fiction novel was coming along nicely, and he desperately suppressed the fear that he wouldn't live to finish writing it.

In the afternoon, the twins went out to get some special holiday dishes in a last-minute sale. Lorraine had insisted they'd go, claiming that she had to do the laundry and get the house cleaned (which was silly as they were going to the Browns that evening, not to the McFly house) but Calvin knew it was really to distract him. And it worked. There were still leftover Christmas decorations, fellow shoppers and shop employees were in a joyous mood, and the twins had a fun time together due to their matching personalities. By the time they returned home, even Calvin wore a smile on his face in anticipation for all what was coming for them. The smile, however, promptly disappeared when he saw the look on his mother's face – a strange combination of concern mixed with hope.

"Is something wrong?" Marty asked.

Lorraine nodded. "The Doc called just a few minutes ago" she replied, softly. "Calvin, he and Chris want you to come over right away – apparently, talking to Clara has given him an idea about your health. They said they have an important journey in mind that might solve your problems."

Marty groaned. "Using the time machine?" he guessed. "Did Doc say why that couldn't wait until after the holidays?"

"He said he wanted to get this thing behind us so that Calvin could celebrate the New Year at ease" Lorraine recalled. "And then he added, 'provided this works.'" She sighed. "Marty, I agree with you – I'm not sure we should do this right now. If there's a risk…"

"Mom, even if there's a risk, I'll take it" Calvin abruptly responded. "Do you know how frustrating and frightening it is to constantly have to think that you might die soon? It's horrible! If there's any chance that my… situation can be ended, then I'm going to grab it with both hands."

Lorraine remained silent for a moment, stunned at her son's announcement, but finally reluctantly nodded. "If that's how you feel…"

"It is."

"Then you should go over" she concluded reluctantly. "I'm just not sure… do you want Marty to join you? I mean, sure, it is an important moment for you and your brother should probably be there, and I'd understand if you wouldn't want to have a go at it alone, but I need help preparing the cake, and I'd hate to call in the others. Linda and Dad are both off with some friends right now, and you know how little your father sees his High School buddies anymore, and if I ask Linda to come home and help me now she'll be cranky all evening. And Dave is at work and, well, you know Dave… but I suppose I could do it by myself and I wouldn't want to be the source of your troubles…"

"Mom" Calvin cut in. "It's fine. Honestly. I can go alone." He smiled at her, knowing all too well that Lorraine just couldn't let go of her children that easily.

His mother nodded. "All right." She leaned in for a tight hug, while Marty gave his brother an awkward pat on the back. "Should we call your Dad?" Lorraine added.

Calvin shrugged. "If all goes well, I should be back soon, and if all doesn't go well, well…" He hesitated, then smiled uneasily. "You know, I trust Doc and Chris. All will go well."

His mother and brother nodded, and Calvin headed off, not wishing to prolong the awkwardness. He took his coat and headed out of the backdoor, taking his skateboard. He could have asked Marty for the keys to the truck, but that would require going back inside and facing more awkwardness. It was probably for the best to get this over with.

As the teen headed towards the home of the Browns, he figured that taking the truck probably wouldn't have been a good idea anyway. With it being New Year's Eve, most main streets were clogged with traffic of people getting home to their families. Using the skateboard he easily avoided them and arrived at his destination around 4:50. Claudia greeted him at the door, let him inside, but didn't answer any of his questions. Instead, she led him down to the basement where Doc and Chris were waiting. Mike and Clara were with them. Calvin greeted them all and took the time to look around. However, he didn't see anything unusual besides the time machines and some of the equipment he'd seen during his previous visits, and he decided to focus on Doc instead. "So…"

Doc nodded. "To cut to the chase right away – during the past days, Clara and I have been discussing the ways the world has changed since 1985. Technology, laws, politics, daily life, all sorts of subjects. She has made remarkable progress, really, being able to extrapolate from Jules Verne's works how our world works and even besides that being quite adept, and she's showing great progress with modern appliances like ovens and microwaves and televisions that I can only be baffled at, even if she did react strangely to them at first but only for a moment… though that's beside the point" he finished, noticing Chris' glare. "My point is that we also discussed the great advances in medicine, and at some point while reading one of my books, Clara came up with an idea that might help you." He turned to his fiancée. "Would you like to explain it yourself?"

"I'll try" Clara replied. "Calvin, while reading, Emmett and I came across medical advances such as organ donation. I still think it's unusual, but the idea that people can replace part of someone's body with part of somebody else's body… well, it's frightening, but also amazing. And that's what made me think of you. If I understood it well, you are fading out because you are already present in the form of Marty, right, and you're another version of him from this dimension?" Calvin nodded. "Well, what if you replaced one of your organs with one of somebody else? Somebody from another dimension, even? Then part of you would not fit in with this world, and it might prolong your life."

Calvin hesitated. On one hand, it sounded insane, fantastical, weird… but on the other hand, if it worked… it could help him. He turned to Chris. "Do you think that could work?"

The inventor nodded. "It could, under the right circumstances" he replied. "If we were to replace one of your organs with one of Mike's, you being almost identical would cause your system to accept the organ much easier than in a normal donation, and it would give you part of what we have – the ability to continue existing here because we're from another dimension. On the other hand, it would not solve the problem permanently, and might even make it worse if the organ – we were figuring on a kidney, but if you want it to be something else just say so – breaks down due to it holding the main pressure to keep you alive, whereas right now that pressure is divided over your entire system. Of course, I'm not a biologist, and those are just theories… but they are things we'll have to consider. In any case don't think you have to do this. There is a definite risk, and that's why we want you to have a choice in this."

Calvin nodded. "Well, I'll try" he replied. "Even if it won't help in the long term… well, I definitely can't stand the current prospect. How long do you think the organ would hold out?"

Chris and Doc exchanged glances. "We're not sure" the latter admitted. "Like Chris said, we're not biologists, and this is hardly an issue prominent biologists have speculated about. Our estimates are at least a year, probably two or three, but even that's a really rough estimate. It would almost definitely prolong your life from the current prospects, though, although you might be unlucky in either case. We have already checked up on some information at the hospital you'd be going to, and the evidence seems to hint at the two to three year estimate."

"You've already visited a hospital?" Calvin said, confused. "I thought they would be deviating from their normal schedule around now, what with the holidays and all."

"They are, at least in this area, but I didn't visit it around this time" Doc said, grinning. "You will be going to the future. By 2045, I would feel much safer about such an operation, and the chance that anything goes wrong would be minimal. We already contacted the hospital and set up an operation schedule – not that we wanted to push you into this, of course, and it could be cancelled again fairly easy."

"I see" Calvin repeated. "2045? Heavy… all right, let's go then."

"Right now?" Chris replied, surprised.

The teen nodded. "Yeah. If you have everything prepared, then I want to do this before I chicken out. Get this over with. If Mike agrees…"

"I'll do it" Mike said smoothly. "You're one of my best friends, and if this is what we need to save your life until Doc and Dad have a definite solution, I'll help you, this time and again if we have to. Plus, I always wanted to see the future and Dad wouldn't let me."

Claudia grinned. "Mike, must you always end something sweet you're saying with something that sounds that selfish? Besides, we've visited the future before."

"That was the 2010 in the world we came from, and I don't think that counts" Mike said. "I'm anxious to see the real future, and if I can help Calvin on my way, I'll gladly do it."

"That's nice to hear" Chris said, grinning as well. "But if you really want to get _everything_ over with right now, then Susan and I have something to share with you first."

Doc rolled his eyes. "I thought you wanted to tell them tonight when everybody's here."

"I did, but maybe it is better when there are a few people at the time" Chris replied. "It makes me feel less awkward. But in any case, I'm going to ask Susan for back-up." He headed up the stairs, and came back a few moments later with his wife in tow. She was also grinning strangely. Calvin, who was wondering what it could be, suddenly had a thought pop into his mind, but then rejected it. That couldn't be possible, could it?

"Mike, Claudia, everyone… I'm pregnant."

All right, maybe it could.

The initial reaction to Susan's sudden announcement – no doubt done out of a desire to avoid chitchat and further dropping hints around the subject – was one of silence. Mike's mouth dropped open, Claudia just stared, and Calvin blinked. It was silent in the room for about fifteen seconds before Mike, keeping his mouth open and his eyes focused on his parents, awkwardly reached around for a chair to sit on, found none in the vicinity, hesitated, and then finally braved his uneasiness and stood up straight. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me" Susan replied. "I had been feeling a bit uneasy for a while now, nothing serious, but out of curiosity I bought one of those pregnancy tests yesterday morning while shopping. I guess I just wanted to see, and it was more wishful thinking than anything else… but it was positive. I'm in the very early stage of a pregnancy. You'll be getting a brother or sister by July or August." She smiled, but gradually frowned. "Aren't you two happy?"

Mike blinked. "Um, um, sure" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Just… shocked, I guess." He smiled faintly. "This is a bit of a bombshell, after all."

"You can say that again" Claudia replied. "I'd just gotten used to having you two as, well, our parents, and now…"

"Nothing is going to change for you" Susan assured them. "Chris and I love you both, and even if we're going to have another baby, it's not like we're going to kick you out or rush you to into getting a home of your own anything like that." The slight relief visible on the teens' faces indicated to Calvin that they had, at least at some level, been worried about that. "The fact that this will be our biological baby and that you're our adoptive children shouldn't change anything about that."

"Susan's right" Chris agreed. He turned to his son, putting an arm around his shoulder. "If you're in need of some time out to get used to the news, maybe we should postpone the trip after all…"

"No, that's fine" Mike replied. He smiled awkwardly. "Getting my mind off things might actually be better, and, well, I wouldn't want to keep Calvin waiting. This issue needs to be fixed right away." Calvin noticed his friend was staring directly at him at that point, probably to cut off any protest he might be making. "And I am happy, but it's just something to adjust to. There will be lots of changes, first with Clara moving to this era and now this…"

"Certainly" Chris agreed. "We'll have to give that some thought eventually… but first things first." He paced towards the DeLorean. "Calvin, Emmett and I have picked up some clothes for you and Mike to wear in order to appear less conspicuous in 2045. As you know, it's a necessary precaution, even if we don't plan to be there for too long – the hospitals supposedly work miracles in the 2040s, and given how much they were capable of some 15 years earlier when Emmett and I got rejuvenated, I don't doubt that assessment. Anyway, the clothes are in the closet. Why don't you go change, and we'll prepare the DeLorean for the journey."

Calvin nodded, and he headed off towards the closet, Mike in tow. The teen gave his friend uneasy glances, wondering whether Michael Emmett Brown really was as comfortable with all this as he appeared to be. He knew neither Mike nor Claudia was going to raise a fuss about this in the long term – if they didn't know how much their parents loved them by now and felt insecure about it, they hadn't been paying attention for a long time. Nevertheless, it might take a while before they truly accepted that a baby was coming to their household.

The change of clothes occurred in silence. Fortunately, either Chris or Doc had already tagged the clothes they were supposed to wear, as Calvin might have dismissed them otherwise. They just looked so… unusual to a 20th Century eye. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have wanted to be caught dead in them (metaphorically speaking, of course), but since this was in the future… he could tough it out. Another distressing fact the teen noticed was the relative looseness of the clothes and the ease to get them off and on again. Whether that was just a trait future clothing had in general, or whether it was for the purpose of making surgery easier… Calvin didn't know, and he really preferred not to think about it. Although he had agreed to go on this trip to get an operation done, he still wasn't very comfortable about it.

As they got back to the time machine, Susan and Claudia had cleared out, and Doc – though not Chris – had changed into what appeared to be future clothes. When Mike questioned his father, Chris replied that with the DeLorean being so crowded as it was, it really wasn't necessary for both scientists to be along on this trip. Calvin supposed he couldn't argue with that.

They got back inside the car, which had been repaired fully from its previously damaged state, and watched as Doc got clearance much easier than Mike and the others had in the other time machine a few days ago. Of course, that had been Christopher Brown's time machine, and Doc was significantly easier on security.

The time machine got out of the garage and into the skies above Hill Valley before Doc turned to his friends. "We're aiming for June 1st – might as well have pleasant weather while we're at it – of 2045" he told them. "7 PM. Like the time we went to 2015, it will be raining… oh wait, I guess neither of you were there. Anyway, the rain and some mild thunder should be sufficient to provide cover. Also, 7 isn't really a busy hour by 2045."

"Got it, Doc" Calvin replied. "What happens after that?"

"We head over to the hospital, which is still on the same location as we know it to be" Doc replied. "It's not the same building, though. The procedure itself should be finished by 7:40, although the receiving patient – that would be you, Calvin – will have to recover for another twenty minutes or so. At home, you'll need to go to bed right away and have a good night's sleep. Even so, that's a vast improvement on anything that would happen in our time period, especially given how complete the recovery will be."

"Got it, Doc" Mike replied. Calvin nodded.

"All right, then it's time for departure" Doc replied, putting in the dates he had just mentioned. "Brace yourselves."

Mike and Calvin had known their friend long enough to realize that the bracing part wouldn't be a formality. They hung on tight to whatever was within reach as the DeLorean sped up and rapidly passed the sixty- and seventy- mile thresholds. Before too long, the vehicle started to emit sparks. There were flashes of light, a sonic boom…

…and then they were in the middle of a mild rain storm, surrounded by other flying cars.

To his credit, Doc almost immediately recovered from the time jump, maintaining good control of the steering wheel and placing the car in position amidst the other traffic even as Calvin's heart was beating fast. He had been to the future before, but skyways never failed to make him feel uneasy.

The flight itself took only a brief while – too brief for the nervous teen, whose composure wasn't as good as he wished it to be. He tried to distract himself by looking around. Although he couldn't see much from the sky, it was obvious that there had been significant changes since 2015. The skyways looked much better organized, complete with speed signs, strange beams emitting from devices hanging under the skyways which Calvin realized after a while were probably meant to keep drivers from overtaking others by flying under them, and devices which were marked 'seatbelt scanning'. Looking further down, he noticed a harmonious view of streets and offices mixed with trees which looked so perfect he felt that they had to be fake. But perhaps they weren't, and the implications of that would be such technological advancements that Calvin suddenly felt much more at ease with the idea of this operation.

He didn't have much time to doubt himself anyway. Before he knew it, the time machine was approaching Hill Valley Hospital, which looked the same as it had done in 1985 – at first glance. Looking closer, there were much superficial changes that incorporated future technology for an efficient and pleasant hospital… and then there was the fact that they landed on the roof rather than on the parking lot, flying underneath an arch transmitting more beams. Doc drastically lowered their speed, and a dial on the dashboard started beeping, emitting green and occasionally yellow lights. The inventor carefully maneuvered the car through what appeared to be an empty roof (just with some strange marked roads on it), and Calvin didn't really realize what was going on until they parked and got out of the car and he noticed it was invisible.

Mike looked around in awe. "It's a parking lot… for invisible cars?" he guessed.

Doc nodded. "The arch emits special beams which react with the coat on the car itself and make it invisible, which I could have explained more about if I had the time. It doesn't work for very long, though, and from what I've seen, the technology is still quite state-of-the-art in this time period. And of course, they need to be careful to avoid it falling into the hands of criminals."

Calvin nodded. "It won't turn _us_ invisible, will it?" he wondered.

"Don't worry" Doc said. "The beams are specifically designed to react with the specific, flashy colors on cars, and with the substance that lies beneath them. Humans, nor human clothing, will be affected. As you can see, they do cover wheels and glass on a car, though – although I haven't entirely found out how that works yet."

Mike and Calvin shared a knowing grin, aware that Doc would probably try to find out everything about this technology on the earliest opportunity he got. They followed their friend across the roof and down a strange, voice-activated elevator leading into the hospital, which also breathed familiarity but had strange details occasionally which were especially jarring. There were small screens at the reception desk which apparently enabled them to permanently keep an eye on all patients, and other flat, sleek screens which Calvin guessed to be computers. A lot of what he would have expected at a reception desk, though, was missing – there were no loose forms, pens, telephones, room keys… it was almost a surprise that the women at the desk were humans, not a robots. Then again, maybe they _were_ robots, and construction stage had already gotten to the point that no one could tell the difference.

Unlike his teenaged companions, Doc didn't gawk, directly approaching the first woman, who turned her attention to him and appeared relaxed despite continuing to type, talk to somebody on headphones, glance at the monitors, and occasionally exchange a word with her colleague. "Excuse me, I reserved an organ donation today for a Calvin McFly" he told her. Calvin was surprised his friend would use his real name in a time period when he was supposed to be seventy-seven – then again, what with the ubiquitous nature of fingerprint ID, they would have a hard time hiding it.

The woman nodded, and looked down the files on her computer. Calvin tried to look at what she was doing, but he really couldn't decipher much. "McFly, Calvin and Brown, Michael" she replied in a monotone voice. "Room 321, third floor, kidney surgery. Serving surgeon: Dr. M.C. Brown."

Calvin and Mike drew back in surprise at the name, while Doc, though much less startled, still appeared to be surprised. "Brown?"

The woman nodded. "Have a nice day."

With that, they were dismissed, and the receptionist returned to her work, the exact nature of which Calvin still couldn't entirely decipher. It soon became obvious that they could do nothing but go off, and thus they awkwardly started walking back to the elevator. Mike turned to Doc. "Do you think that might be anyone we know?"

"Or a descendant of someone we know" Calvin suggested. He smiled. "It might even be you, Mike… well, I suppose with those initials it couldn't, unless you changed your middle name. But it could be a kid of yours."

As Mike blushed, Doc shrugged. "It's certainly possible, but 'Brown' is a common name around here. It could certainly be a Brown who isn't related to any of us at all, and even if he – or she – is family, we are so far into the future that the surgeon could be a very distant relative. We'll just have to find out."

"You didn't know about any of this beforehand, then" Calvin said.

The inventor shrugged again. "I couldn't explore everything – and the appointment was made with the hospital, not with a specific surgeon. As you can understand, I was wary about finding out too much, so I kept my visits as short and to the point as possible. I made the appointment for today, marked it in my notebook, and that was it. And even if I had found anything about this, I probably wouldn't have explored further out of fear of it actually being a relative – in fact, I would probably have rescheduled the appointment to get a doctor with a totally unrelated name."

They got into the elevator, the doors shut, and they were on their way to the third floor. "Would you really do that?" Mike wondered, skeptical.

"I can tell you a more shocking story – I've got half a mind on still doing it right now" Doc said, leaning back against the wall until the doors opened again and they got onto the third floor's hallway. "It's still possible – from what little I did find out about current-day medicine, technology is now so sophisticated that the hospital needs little manpower anymore. Surgeons are mostly there to make sure everything goes the way it should rather than doing the main part of the job. Thus, we could easily get a rescheduling and a new appointment in short notice."

Calvin grunted, while Mike shook his head. "We're already on our way" he figured. "No matter what you say, it's a little late to chicken out now. And even if you do get an appointment for another time with an unfamiliar sounding name, there are no guarantees that that person couldn't turn out to be related to us, through his or her mother's side."

Doc nodded, apparently conceding the point, and they simply walked on until room 321. As Calvin looked around, he noticed the hallway looked exactly the same as its counterpart on the previous floor. He could now see the devices hanging onto the railings along the walls better, and figured they were used for quicker transportation. They were probably either unpopular or a very new technology, because all of the people he saw still went on foot. Or maybe they were just for sick people.

The trio got to the room in no time, and Calvin took the first step in cautiously walking in. He saw no people, but immediately noticed two beds, one marked 'McFly, Calvin' and the other 'Brown, Michael'. He was surprised at how soft and comfortable they looked compared to the surgery tables he was used to. As he took a step forwards, a gentle beam shot out from the roof and scanned his body from head to toe. After it finished, a male voice spoke up. "Welcome to Hill Valley Hospital, Calvin. Please lie down. The surgeon will be here shortly." The voice sounded so human that Calvin would have suspected he was actually talking to somebody right now if not for the same voice starting to talk to Mike in the same tone after he had been scanned. They overlapped, making it hard to hear the tail end of the monologue.

"They really ought to fix that" Doc commented absent-mindedly.

Calvin nodded, and decided to go ahead and lie down. He took off his shoes on a special place marked for that purpose, after which they were promptly enveloped into the floor, and then lay down on the bed. It was even more comfortable than it looked, and the teen almost dozed off right away. He squinted to see Mike lie down just like him. The two exchanged awkward glances. "What time is it, Doc?" Mike asked.

The inventor checked his watch. "7:13" he reported. "The appointment was made for 7:15, so the surgeon should be here shortly." He looked around the room, and Calvin followed his eye trail – it did not appear that there were magazines or non-medical tv screens anywhere. Even in the future, people still didn't just wait in the same room while their relatives had surgery. "I'll go back out into the hallway and wait there for you."

Calvin nodded. "Okay."

Doc gave him a gentle smile, squeezing his friend's hand. "Don't worry. I have confidence in this time period's technology. If you were going to meet success anywhere, it will be here."

The teen nodded again, and Doc appeared to take that as a prompt to leave. However, he had barely stepped out of the door when he almost collided with a man in a bright green and white suit. Judging from Doc's soft "Great Scott", Calvin figured that this man was likely A – the surgeon, and B – indeed a relative of people they knew.

That fact became clearer when Doc stepped aside and Calvin got his first good look at the stranger, who appeared to be in his forties or perhaps his fifties – although facial appearance would of course mean little in the rejuvenated society of the future. Though he was significantly shorter than Doc and his eyes looked more blue than brown, other facial traits bore a strong resemblance to both Doc and Chris, and there was something in his manner too that looked very familiar. As Calvin looked over at Mike, he saw his friend noticed the same thing and was reacting with similar amazement.

As for the man himself, he didn't appear to be too surprised, although there was a definite look of wonder and amazement in his face. He took Doc up from face to feet, then nodded. "So it _is_ you" he whispered.

Doc nodded, his face pale. "And you're surgeon M.C. Brown, I presume?" he whispered. The man nodded. "So I take it that it _is_ possible to produce children after rejuvenation surgery, even at high ages."

The man looked at him curiously, but slowly nodded. "When are you from?"

"December 1985" Doc replied, sighing. "Da-curse that temporal amnesia!" He smiled sheepishly at the startled looks the others gave him. "Clara doesn't like swearing, so I'm trying to cut down on it. Anyway, this is information likely to endanger our natural behavior in the immediate future – information I would have preferred to go without. But I suppose you really didn't know, and my future self – if I have one – couldn't have told you because his memories were affected by the fact that we've travelled to the future right now."

"If I had, I would have avoided you at all cost" M.C. Brown replied. "I – we – we like altering the past as little as you do." He sighed. "But, now that we've met anyway, I might as well perform the surgery. Better that than have somebody do it who doesn't understand the situation and might find something we don't want to get out." He scanned the room before finally resting his eyes on Calvin. "What was this surgery for again?"

"Delaying Calvin's potential erasure" Doc said. From the look on his face, Calvin could see his friend was trying just as hard as he was to figure out whether M.C. being unaware of what was going on with him was a good or a bad sign for his survival. "Anyway, are you sure you can do this? I mean, I always expected any descendant of Chris or myself to…well…" He shrugged. "I don't know what I expected. Not a doctor, that's for sure."

"Don't worry on that end" M.C. Brown assured him. "I'm a fully qualified surgeon – I could show you my credentials, but I suppose they wouldn't mean much to you. You'll just have to trust me on this, step out of the room, and not come back for another hour or so until the surgery and recovery is completed. There's a waiting room around the corner. Just try to blend in – if you need me, use this." He rummaged through the drawers of a cabinet in the room and pulled out what looked like ear plugs. "They're communication devices."

"I figured as much" Doc replied, taking one. He stared at his friends and sighed. "All right, I suppose I should leave. Good luck, boys."

Calvin watched after the inventor as he left the room, and then turned back to the surgeon. Even though he now knew this was a relative of either Doc or Chris, he still felt nervous. The man smiled gently at them and poured some strange green liquid into small cups. He offered both Mike and Calvin one.

Calvin took his reluctantly. "What's it for?"

"This stuff should get you in a deep sleeping state within ten seconds, making you unaware of anything happening. I could rip you open and you wouldn't feel any pain, making it ideal for surgery." Calvin cast him a worried look, at which point M.C. Brown chuckled. "Don't worry, it's harmless. If there was any danger, I wouldn't let you take any of this. Remember, you guys are my past."

The teen supposed that was true, and then hesitantly set the cup against his lips. He still cast a nervous look around – did he really want to risk this? Not just drinking the knockout stuff, but the whole procedure? An organ surgery was a pretty heavy process, and even if it was safe on all levels…

Then he looked sideways, and noticed Mike was already sleeping, the cup still in his hand. That settled it for Calvin. Yes, he could decide to gamble with his own life and not go along with it after all – but one of his best friends had already agreed to help him, and was soon going to be in the same boat he was in. It was only proper for him to show some courage, too. He took a deep breath and gulped down the green liquid, which tasted funny but not unpleasant. He just had time to set down the cup on his nightstand before a sudden wave of exhaustion overcame him and he fell into a deep sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Back to the Future! It's frustrating, isn't it?**

 _Author's Note: It's November 12th 2015 and at last, the final chapter is here. Some more information about the future, and in a way a conclusion of the events of this tale. Please read and review._

 **Chapter Fifteen**

Thursday, June 1, 2045  
07:37 PM PDT  
Hill Valley, California

When waking up, Michael Brown felt dizzier than he had felt in a long time. To his surprise, though, he hardly felt hurt, and soon his discomfort cleared up. He yawned, stretched his arms under the blankets, and nervously breathed in and out. If he was awake, then the operation had to be finished. But yet he didn't feel any pain, or even stitches… sure, 2040s medical technology was probably wonderful, but even with that in mind he doubted that he wouldn't feel anything at all after an operation which should have left him lacking one kidney. Had everything really gone as planned?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Mike blinked and carefully looked around the room. Dr. Brown was still looking over Calvin, who appeared to be sound asleep. As Mike peered closer, he could see that neither he nor the other boy had bandages or stitches easily visible – although of course he couldn't really tell whether there weren't minor marks, as Calvin was covered with the blanket. He watched the surgeon for a while, then cleared his throat.

"Is everything all right?" he whispered. His throat felt sore, and his voice was barely more than a squeak, but he had expected more difficulties speaking up. It was another sign of a quick recovery. Whatever the volume of his voice, though, Dr. Brown noticed it and turned to him.

"Nice to see you're up, Mike" he said gently. "The operation proceeded as planned, but we'll have to tend to Calvin for a while – what with his unusual situation, it will take some time before we can be certain that he's all right." Mike nodded. "You can wait in the waiting room, if you like, or anywhere else in the building."

The teenager blinked. "You mean, I can get up now? Just like that?"

He must have cut a really strange face, because Dr. Brown couldn't help chuckling. "I can barely imagine what medical technology must have been like in your time" he muttered. "Yes, you can go. The Doc Brown from your time should be close by. I'll alert him that you're coming."

Mike nodded. Although he was still recovering, due to the remarkable qualities of future technologies his mind was already moving onto the next subject – finding out as much as he could about what laid ahead of them. As he had said before when volunteering, his father generally refused to let them go into the future, and Mike could certainly understand his points. However, he had a curious nature, and being surrounded by all these amazing things was too much for him. And sure, he was an aspiring scientist, but that didn't mean he would remain satisfied with just finding information about future technology. He just had to look around, see if he could find out about Calvin, about Marty, about his father and Doc, about Jennifer, Ann and Claudia… and of course, about himself. And perhaps the mysterious M.C. Brown was as good a place to start as any.

"So…" he said, trying to sound casual. "You're really a doctor? A medical doctor?"

M.C. Brown, who was checking over Calvin again, nodded. "I can see why that would make you feel weird. It is hardly a usual profession in my family, but I got interested in medicine when I was a little boy, and my parents completely supported me in it."

Mike nodded again. The answer was vague, as he'd expected – like any Brown, the physician clearly didn't want somebody from the past finding out more about the future. "They didn't have any doubts whatsoever? Not like they preferred for you to follow their own career?"

M.C. Brown smiled, getting that Mike was trying to get him to spill the beans about just who his parents were. "Well, occasionally we talked about it and they weren't happy with my decision per se. You can imagine they would have expected me to become a scientist to follow in their footsteps, but, well, you ended up doing that in the end so it all came out okay. How's that working out for you at the time you're from, given that your counterparts all pursue such different careers?"

The teen was about to answer the question with an enthusiastic tale about how his father had introduced him to becoming a scientist and how much he was enjoying it, when he realized two things. First, that M.C. Brown had deliberately chosen this path because he wanted to lead Mike off the track towards discovering more about his identity. Secondly, that his ploy had completely backfired on him. "Are you saying that _I_ followed in their footsteps?" Mike echoed. "Like, I was your parents' son?"

Theoretically, M.C. Brown could have still gone a long way with denial at that point. Given how close the various families of Browns and McFlys and Parkers were back in 1985, both Doc and Chris could have considered Mike pursuing a career in science as following in their footsteps. But the phrasing was too easily done, and the blush on the physician's face gave it away. "I – I" he stammered, then sighed. "I'm really not good at this."

"So, you're my… what should I call it, my adoptive brother? Well, I suppose I'm the adopted one, but…" Mike shook his head, testing the words and finding they sounded really strange, especially when spoken about a man who was so much older than he was – in this time, that is. Which reminded him of something else… "Wait, you're not the baby Mom's pregnant with, right?"

M.C. Brown wisely stayed silent for a while, contemplating a reply, and then frowned. "So, you know Mom's pregnant?"

Mike nodded. "She told us earlier tonight."

M.C. Brown grinned. "Now there's a strange idea. But Mike, having established that we're siblings, I think it'd be best for you to leave now. If Dad or Doc finds out that you've been snooping around, you'll get punished and you know why it's necessary."

The teenager shrugged. "If they didn't want me to try to find out more about the future, Doc shouldn't have taken me along. He knows me, after all."

"You know as well as I do that you were the only option after what happened to Calvin – although going to the future was probably not the only option considered for him." Mike nodded. "Even so, it looks like it was the right one. I can't tell you too much yet, but I can tell you your counterpart – brother – twin…" The physician frowned. "What _do_ you consider each other by this point?"

"No idea" Mike admitted. "Between Marty and Calvin it's pretty clear, but between them and me? Let's just stick to counterparts for now."

M.C. Brown nodded. "Anyway, your counterpart is likely to recover soon and have extensive use of his new donor organ. If you hadn't volunteered, he might not have lived much longer, but this should give him considerable breathing space. So on his behalf, thank you very much, Mike. That was a very brave gesture." Mike shrugged. "Anyway, I should still compel you to leave. Finding information about the future can be…"

"…dangerous, I know, I know" Mike replied, sitting up and getting off the bed. He was surprised at how easy it went. "So, the waiting room is around the corner?"

The physician nodded again. "It shouldn't take much longer, but I need to run some checks on Calvin before letting him go and I really need to do those in private and when able to concentrate – and that doesn't include having to watch what I say around time travelers from the past."

Mike cracked a smile. "I'm already gone." He headed out of the office and had already started walking back the way he had come, marveling at how all right he still felt despite the loss of a kidney, when he realized that they'd come past this route and there had been no sign of a waiting room then. The waiting room had to be around the other corner. He turned around and…

Wait.

Sitting in a small office, unattended by anyone, was a computer. It was already turned on and displayed sufficient information that Mike would guess there were no more passwords to be bypassed for him to get anything out of it. And he could get stuff out of computers. From what little his father had told him about the future, he knew computer technology was going to catch on in a huge way, and that in twenty years (and thus certainly in sixty) virtually everything worth knowing would also be available on the internet. It was like a vast library of future knowledge, and it was practically winking to him.

Mike weighed his options. Yes, he had agreed with M.C. Brown that having information about the future was dangerous, but it was one thing altogether to agree about that or to resist this temptation when he was all alone. This was basically too good to pass up… and perhaps he wouldn't be able to access the internet, or of course figure out how it worked. He could at least try.

Making sure Doc wasn't looking and nor was any member of the hospital staff, Mike sneaked into the office, closing the door behind him and making sure it shut tight – even though like everything in this place it had a thumb lock so he couldn't really close it. Then, he sat down behind the computer.

The information already on screen looked boring – basic hospital stuff, and although it would have made the day of a physician from 1985, it wasn't at all what Mike was looking for. He knew he had to change the screen, but how? Perhaps it was voice-operated?

The teenager hesitated, cleared his throat, then fastened his resolve. "Access internet" he tried, hoping it would work. It didn't. Instead, a red light flashed, and the screen was replaced by a clock counting down from fifteen against a red background. _Oh crap!_ Mike's eyes flew over the screen and the technology around it, unpleasantly reminded of the experience when they left for 1885. Why didn't he ever _learn_ from situations like that? "Off button, off button…"

Mike groaned, trying to brainstorm his way out of the situation. He was clever with computers, perhaps he could solve this. He pressed every button he could press, and none of them worked. What was worse, the noise got louder. "Argh! Off, off, off!" He was about to get up from the chair and flee the room, hoping to escape before anyone could find out what he'd done…

…before the computer, for _some_ reason, followed his commands and shut off altogether.

For a moment, Mike thought he was going crazy. This had to be a hallucination. When the screen remained off, though, he let out a sigh of relief. The room was silent again, and as he peered through the outside door he realized the room must be soundproof, as there didn't appear to be people underway. Then again, they might have other ways for thwarting his intentions. Perhaps they even had cameras in this room. 2045 was a dangerous time to mess around with, and maybe he should leave it all well enough alone.

Mike sat down on the chair again, facing the computer, and stared at it for nearly a full minute. He was torn. On one hand, he wanted to leave, get back to Doc while he was still unlikely to be suspected of anything – he could just tell the scientist he'd been on a bathroom break and couldn't find the bathroom. That was possible, in fact, in this weird future, it was extremely plausible. He could still get out now.

On the other hand, though, now that he'd calmed down, he knew he would always regret it if he didn't just try once more. He now knew how to turn the computer off in case the situation repeated itself, and, well, his stubborn nature wouldn't let go. He had to know more. He couldn't just sit here in front of a computer storing future technology and not look anything up. It would drive him insane.

He considered speaking to turn it on again, but then realized that probably would end up with him in the same situation as last time. Instead, he looked for a button that might serve the same purpose. There were still buttons, after all, so all he had to do was find the right one.

The first button opened the window, the second shut it again, and the third apparently placed a telephone call which he immediately terminated. The fourth made a cup of hot tea pop out which Mike looked at for a moment, startled, then sipped some of before continuing. The fifth button made a keyboard appear, which was convenient, but not what he was looking for. The sixth button, however, did not have an immediate reaction, and just as Mike wondered whether this was good or bad the computer started buzzing and turned on again. Within a fraction of a second, a screen showed displaying a set of pictures of what appeared to be hospital staff, complete with names. Mike picked the picture of M.C. Brown, which frustratingly didn't show his full name, and then got a password request.

The teenager sighed. He should have considered that. But again, he refused to give up right away. He leaned into his chair and started to think. All right, if this involved Brown's spouse or children, he had no way of guessing the password. If it involved his parents or the remainder of his immediate family, he stood a small chance. But what if it involved numbers – like, his birthday? Mike glared at the screen. It did look like there were very light grey stripes visible between the numbers, as if to separate dates. Mom had said the baby would be born in July or August, so if this involved a birthday…

Mike tried 07-15-1986. It fit perfectly within the boundaries of the password box, confirming his suspicions, but it wasn't correct. Then 07-16-1986. No match. 07-17-1986. Again, nothing. And then the next date, and the next date, and on and on until he hit Enter for the 25th and firmly suspected the same error message. Instead, the computer cut to a blue screen.

Mike could barely suppress a scream of joy. He hadn't thought it would actually work, not to mention how strangely organized this security was. Perhaps future hackers and such focused on different aspects compared to the ones in his own time. Or future people simply didn't think more sophisticated password security was required anymore what with all the other protection they had. Either way, the teen was grateful for it. He turned his attention to the screen and clicked on the fifth button to make the keyboard reappear. No way was he going to try voice-operation again after all that.

Getting on the internet turned out to be extremely easy. Mike simply clicked on the 'Internet' icon, and a new screen opened itself complete with a search bar. The teen grinned, utterly relieved how easy this was going after all the previous trouble. He wondered whose name to search for for a moment, then decided to pick Marty McFly.

Almost instantly, a list of data came up, complete with so many suggestions on how to organize it that Mike felt dizzy. He finally clicked the 'by year' button and started scrolling down from 1968. As Marty was just an average teenage boy who rarely made even local papers, Mike got to 1985 in no time.

The first future entry was insignificant, about Marty's graduation from High School in 1986 as one name in a long list. To Mike's relief, Calvin's name was right next to him. The next entry was a few years thereafter, and dealt with Marty's rock band. Apparently the Pinheads had broken up. The news hit Mike hard, as he knew how much Marty loved to sing and had high hopes for his band. Perhaps this was the reason why he shouldn't look up future information. Yet, as he scanned the article, positive mentions of Marty's singing and guitar talents encouraged him to go on.

The next entries progressively got better for Marty, and thus for Mike's spirits as well. His friend had succeeded in releasing a single by the early 1990s, and his name gradually grew as time passed. There were several mentions of the words 'rock star', which made the teenager grin, as well as an article which named Marty in connection to Doc and Chris, one which involved inventions related to hover conversion. Mike quickly skipped that one. He was interested in finding out about his Dad's future, yes, and he felt encouraged by the fact that they were going to have some success, but right now he wanted to focus on Marty.

After a few more entries about Marty's career, Mike finally found the confirmation he was looking for in one big entry dated October 2000, about some family reunion on the grounds of the future Brown estate. The accompanying picture – an older Marty with Jennifer, an older Calvin with Ann, and somewhat disappointingly no one to accompany older him or Claudia (presuming he was right in distinguishing their future selves from the others'; it had been fifteen years and it was just a picture, after all), but also Doc, Clara, Chris, Susan and several bored looking teenaged children as well as some infants – already said most. The smiles on their faces virtually closed the book. Nevertheless, Mike turned to the article.

Hill Valley Telegraph – Monday, October 23rd 2000

 _BROWNS, MCFLYS CELEBRATE YEARS OF SUCCESS_

 _Two of Hill Valley's most fabulous families, those of the closely affiliated scientists Emmett Lathrop Brown and Christopher Lloyd Brown and the famous rock star Martin Seamus 'Marty' McFly, met today in a grand anniversary celebration at the Brown Estate, belonging to both inventors. They were accompanied by their closest friends and family. Dr. Brown and Dr. Brown have both gotten famous for the development of hover technology six years ago, which has yielded them rich financial rewards and technology an amazing leap forwards. They have repeatedly proclaimed to be working on further refinements to ensure the safety of their inventions and to inspire new ones. McFly, 32, hit it big early in the 1990s after breaking with his High School band a few years earlier. His twin brother, local author Calvin Arthur McFly (both men are sons of famous sci-fi author George McFly), declares 'I am happy that we can celebrate this success together with the people we love. Also, I'm confident that Marty, Doc (Dr. E. Brown, ed.) and Chris (Dr. C. Brown, ed.) are going to have even more successes in the new century. Certainly, I'm happy how my brother and his songs and my friends with their inventions have improved peoples' lives and of course their own, but I am confident to say, even though it might sound sappy, that all of us are the most happy with our lovely wives and children, whom I'd rather have than all those other successes.'_

Mike felt dazed and flabbergasted, and that had only been the first paragraph of the article – he had to pay to read the rest. He felt tempted to click on just to find out whether the price would be ludicrously low, high or something in-between, but in the end he just decided to move on. Now that he knew more or less what he wanted to know about his brother, he clicked on the sidebar and started typing in his own name.

"Michael Emmett Brown."

The teenager froze in his spot, breathed heavily and remained silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. "Why do you always have to show up at the wrong moment?"

"I'd have to agree with that," Doc replied, "considering how I really should have popped up a few minutes earlier. But what's done is done." Mike deliberately kept his eyes focused on the screen, unwilling to look the scientist in the eye and see the condemnation he expected. "As for your sort-of-unspoken question, I came at this time because Calvin was ready. We were ready to go home, and you're coming along with us. Now, Mike."

Mike recognized the tone of his friend's voice and knew the older man meant business. He clicked on the shut-down icon of the internet and slipped out from behind the computer, leaving M.C. Brown logged in. He had no idea if this was going to be traced to the physician, how people could trace it, whether it was going to cause him trouble or not… he should have studied this a little better before going in here. All of it felt more like a jungle than a hospital. "How did you find me?" he finally asked.

Doc smirked, and Mike got a glimpse of his face, which was filled with a strange mixture of disappointment and amusement as they got out of the office. "It wasn't that hard. Once Calvin was done, we waited for a while, but as I knew future technology I knew it couldn't possibly take you so long to show back up. Then, I just looked around a bit, taking what I knew about you in mind, and it wasn't hard to find you."

Mike gulped. "You know, I could have just gone to the bathroom and gotten lost" he argued.

The inventor shook his head. "No, you couldn't, not unless you spent your entire time dawdling around in this limited area. When you pass certain checkpoints, you are scanned by many scanners, one of which measures the amount of liquid in or headed for your bladder – conventionally, whether you need to go. If you do, a message will pop up redirecting you to the nearest bathroom. Or so I heard, at least, I haven't stuck around long enough to get such a message, but I can imagine it works."

The teen nodded dully and only perked up somewhat when he noticed Calvin, who was hanging against the railing, just a tad dizzy, but apparently with no ill effects. "Are you okay?"

Calvin grinned. "As well as I could be" he assured his friend. "This… this actually worked. I'm pretty confident this is actually going to work out well." He turned to Doc. "So, that's all we need to do here?"

Doc nodded. "And in just under an hour, too. Now let's go back home and celebrate New Year's with our families."

Mike and Calvin both nodded, but as they walked back to the DeLorean Mike couldn't help but think about what he had just seen, what Doc might have just seen, and what news it spelled for his friend's future. While Calvin was uncharacteristically enthusiastic – so much that for a moment Mike believed it wasn't just joy about possibly being cured but something that had been in the stuff M.C. Brown had given him to drink – Doc was unusually quiet throughout the journey.

After they got back to the car and Doc turned it back to visibility mode before unlocking it, Mike finally tugged on the scientist's jacket. "Doc, can I speak to you alone for a moment?"

The scientist hesitated, but finally nodded, smiling reassuringly at a confused Calvin. "We'll be back in a second."

Doc and Mike walked a few feet away from the car, still in the middle of the lot and watched cautiously by Calvin from inside the DeLorean, but unheard and isolated from other people – apparently, those whose cars were still here were all occupied inside. Mike pretended to casually look around for a moment, then gave up on it and focused on Doc. "So, I was wondering… did you see what I just found? Before you made me turn off the computer?"

His question was answered with a sigh. "How could I not have? I saw the headline and the photograph before I even realized what I was looking at, and they burned themselves into my mind. Our families end up successful, at least until whatever year that article was from – and I saw them, on a photograph. Browns _and_ McFlys, including Calvin." Another sigh. "I have looked at your futures before, although not since this whole mess with Calvin started. Now I have to bear with having seen his future, and probably mine and Chris' too."

Mike looked irritated. "Doc, I get it, this isn't exactly what you planned" he said. "But you don't have to stick so rigidly to protocol. Now we know, we actually know the future! Isn't it amazing? Isn't it what you invented time travel for?"

"No and no" Doc replied curtly. "Mike, I thought you understood why we did this. We're not keeping future information from ourselves because of a rigid protocol, but we made that protocol to keep information from ourselves that we actually _don't_ want to find out. And now we're paying the consequences. We saw Calvin was alive."

Mike frowned and shrugged before the thoughts could start to stream into his brain to explain exactly what the older man meant. "So what? That's a good thing, right?"

"Yes, but it's also provisional as long as this is our future – and we're fifteen years ahead here" Doc insisted. "Calvin is alive, but we have no idea what caused it, and as we have no idea, doing nothing or doing something could ruin that future and create an alternative where he does die, and that wouldn't only condemn him to death but also risk a time paradox. You do know what _that_ is, right?" Mike nodded, insulted. "When you find out something about the future, you almost always have to find out a lot more details to ensure the path _towards_ that future is safe – and I'm not prepared to find that much information, so therefore I can't allow myself to find some at all."

Mike hesitated. "But isn't there some middle route? Can't we find some way to ensure Calvin's safety while still knowing this?"

Doc sighed. "We'll have to, now – although you can't tell a thing about this future to Calvin, or even anything you've found to _any_ of the others. And I suppose that seeing this has made me slightly more confident that it will work. But it can't be just the donor organ, because it won't last more than _at most_ five years, probably less. Afterwards, we'll be back where we started, with a dying friend and no more possibilities to help him." He smiled wryly at the horror on Mike's face. "But that's several years away, and in the meantime we're going to do anything we can to help him. That's a promise. We succeeded in this future, we succeeded thus far, and we're going to succeed again, no matter what it takes."

Mike nodded, as they headed back into the DeLorean. He was greeted confidently by Calvin, and in response to that could only firmly squeeze his friend's hand, relieved that it remained as solid as ever. They were going to have to find a solution to the crisis, and as the time machine sped up into the sky and headed back to the 1980s, Michael Emmett Brown was confident that they would succeed.

Because when you put your mind to it, you could accomplish anything.

 **TO BE CONCLUDED.**

 _Author's Note: Just some clarifications on the chapter that I couldn't include in either my previous note or the chapter itself:  
_

 _\- M.C. Brown is Martin Calvin Brown, Chris and Susan's first biological child and indeed to be born in July of 1986._

 _\- The reason Mike notices there's no significant other to accompany either him or Claudia in the picture of their future family is, of course, because they turn out to be each other's significant other, not that Mike would have any clue of that yet at this point. They don't get together until mid-1986 or so._

 _\- Final note, the 'To Be Concluded' indicates that this is part of a trilogy of some sorts, with I Didn't Invent Any Time Machine as the first part and Travelling Through Dimensions as the last (again, as could be read in the author's note on the aforementioned story). Of course TTD is, in a way, a sequel to I'll Be Back In Time too, so... well, you'll find out as you get there and as I'll finally upload the final chapters to finish it. Hope you all enjoyed this story, please review and say whatever's on your mind after finishing this, and hopefully, I'll see you at TTD!_


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